


A Year in Review

by DarkeAngelus



Category: Marvel 616, X-Force (Comics)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Friendship/Love, Het and Slash, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rating: NC17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 06:09:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 106,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkeAngelus/pseuds/DarkeAngelus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A behind-the-scene account of how Rictor and Shatterstar began their relationship during their time with X-Force. A perfect read for folks following the pair's exploits on the current title of Peter David's X-Factor, but unaware of their back story. This story is COMPLETE, all 23 chapters of it, so ENJOY.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: X-Force, X-Men, Cable, and all related characters are not mine. They are the property of Marvel Characters, Inc. No copyright infringement is intended (although, in some cases, necessary).
> 
> A/N: This story take place between X-Force v1 issues 14-70, including annuals and a few Cable and X-Men issues set around the time period of 1992-97 (although this story was 'modernized' to fit in with current 21st century technology). I kept pace with most events in the actual series, however liberties were taken with various team memberships, some situations, certain dialogues altered/improved, AND I took a whole different direction with the Benjamin Russell debacle. That Shatterstar origin story, for those of you who'd had to endure reading it "back in the day", was complete nonsensical garbage, so I tried my best to rewrite it- Darke Angelus style.
> 
> Spanish translations (where applicable) are located at the end of each chapter.

It had taken Julio Esteban "Rictor" Richter a long time to try and figure Shatterstar out.

The Mexican had joined up with X-Force late in the game, not knowing of the circumstances behind this strange teenager's presence among the bunch. He only saw a new face among a mutant group that was pretty limited in number, so it was always intriguing to learn more about somebody different, and they didn't come much stranger than 'Star, who was a bioengineered time-displaced alien gladiator. Even standing beside the giant who was James Proudstar, the young man was extremely tall and built like a Mac truck. His enthusiasm towards violence reminded Ric a little of Wolverine. The redhead was trained as a swordsman and incredibly fast and particularly vicious. It was only during the rare times he actually spoke that it revealed his vast intelligence and surprising youth. 'Star had a heavy accent, sounding like a cross between Japanese and Russian, and it was pretty obvious he had only recently learned English. Even so, his words were almost always carefully thought out, as if he had rehearsed them several times in his head before he expressed his opinions. When he was frustrated (which was often), he lapsed into a strange guttural dialect that made his deep voice even rougher.

"Hey man, what kinda language is that?" Rictor had asked him after the red-headed warrior had launched into a scathing tirade at Boom Boom when she had botched her turn at laundry duty and accidently turned his usually pristine white gloves a bright pink.

"Cadre Alliance," he responded sullenly, staring at the ruined material. Sullen appeared to be Shatterstar's dominant personality. After a couple of weeks with the team Ric had yet to see him smile or hear him laugh. Even among this motley collection of emotionally-scarred mutant misfits, the Mojoworlder stood apart from them. Possibly because he was alien, probably because he just preferred it that way. "It is the language of the rebellion on my home world."

"It sounds pretty cool. Maybe you can teach it to me sometime, si?"

'Star had looked at him suspiciously, as if expecting to be the butt of some joke he didn't understand, but Rictor had been serious and the other teen realized that. The usual tension eased from his face for a moment and that was when Rictor noticed how much of a light blue 'Star's eyes were, almost silver, particularly the left one that was tattooed with an eight-pointed star. "I ... yes, I could do that."

"Sweet," Ric said, slapping him on the shoulder and walking away. He got halfway down the hall and for no clear reason, stopped and looked back over his shoulder. 'Star was still standing there, watching him. When he became aware of the scrutiny, he gripped his ruined gloves tighter in his hand and turned away, walking in the opposite direction. That was when Rictor noticed something else; the alien had a great ass, and the Hispanic was left bewildered why that thought had even crossed his mind.

Over the following months came the senseless battles and conflicts that marked a mutant's life under the X-Men banner. It was such a small close-knit community that one group's troubles invariably spilled over into the others, drawing them either all together against a foe or – more times than not - in direct opposition with each other. It depended on the threat or Cable's outlook at the time, whose opinions seemed to change whenever it was convenient for him (and that was only during the rare times he was actually with the group instead of off tending to his own secret agenda). Rictor didn't like Cable. Never would. And it bothered him more than a little to see how utterly devoted Shatterstar was to the man, and how similar the two were in personality. Ruthless, driven, and batshit crazy. 'Star sometimes scared Rictor a little, he scared the entire bunch of them. The only one worse was Feral, who was even weirder. The former Morlock was more feline than human, lost to the predatory instincts of her mutation and always bloodthirsty. It was obvious that she had the hots for 'Star in a major way and there were many in the group who thought that her and Shatterstar were a perfectly suited couple, even if trying to vision their union was a little unsettling. The only problem was that he had absolutely no interest in her, except as a sparring or combat partner.

"Man, I don't know why you don't tap that," James remarked one afternoon when they were in the showers after a particularly gruelling workout. "I have a feeling she'd be wild in the sack."

'Star as usual, whenever the conversation lapsed to sex (which, among the other four young men, was all the damned time), had nothing to say on the subject except the usual; "She is a competent warrior. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Shit, do you hear yourself?" Roberto da Costa remarked, lathering up his hair. "She's more flexible than a gymnast and she's got tits out to _here_. And, man oh man, she's got a freaking _tail_. Can you imagine? That's one pussy with a pussy, that's all I'm saying."

"Bobby, that's really gross," Sam said, red-faced and trying not to laugh.

"Oh c'mon, Guthrie, you of anyone should be encouraging this. The only thing Boomer's giving you is a case of blue balls and carpel tunnel. If Shatty has the chance to score, we should all be cheering him on. Right, Ric?"

Rictor was only half-listening. His long brown hair was hanging in his face and he was glancing furtively through the wet strands watching 'Star shower in the stall across from him. The alien's pale skin was devoid of any trace of birthmark, freckle, or scar. Absolutely flawless. He wasn't as grossly muscled as James or lanky like Sam, but a perfect amalgam of the two, the muscles in ideal symmetry to his height and build. His ass, which had first caught Rictor's eye, was firm and smooth, the muscles clenching and unclenching with perfect rhythm as he rinsed off under the hot spray. When he turned around Ric noticed something else. 'Star was well-hung. Even lying flaccid amidst the copper nest of curls, his penis showed impressive length and girth.

_Seven inches,_ Ric found himself thinking. _Hell, maybe even eight when hard_. Pretty impressive when he, himself, barely made five and even then he was taking liberties with a ruler. He wasn't a tall guy, only five feet-nine to 'Star's six-three, so it shouldn't have come as much surprise but it did just the same. Shatterstar was absolutely perfect. To Rictor, who measured himself by his own numerous shortfalls (real or imagined), it just didn't seem fair.

"Hey, Ric!" James threw a washcloth at him and it splattered against his chest, startling him from his thoughts. "You still with us?"

"I heard you," he said, pulling the wet hair out of his eyes. "And I think Feral's a freak. I don't blame 'Star for avoiding her. She looks like a _puta_ who would gobble you down and then bite it off."

"Whoa. When you put it that way, she does have awfully sharp fangs," Bobby mused, grimacing at the mere thought. They all did. The topic mercifully moved onto to Jimmy and Theresa. The big Native American had an unrequited crush on the team's Deputy Leader and immediately went on the defensive. Within minutes, they were all shouting at each other.

Ric glanced over to 'Star again, who was turning off his shower. Their eyes met briefly and the Mexican was positive he saw a flash of gratitude in that faint blue regard before the alien retrieved his towel and went to the locker room to get dressed. His red hair hung all the way down to the small of his back, acting like an arrow pointing to those glistening buttocks and Ric had to actively force his eyes away from the sight. He leapt back into the boisterous conversation, being as purposely coarse and direct as any straight, perfectly normal seventeen year-old could be.

Their period at Camp Verde, the abandoned Apache Indian Reserve in Arizona, was one of Rictor's most favorite times among the group, and probably the most confusing. He was a pretty horny guy and made sure to find the time to jerk off at least once a day. Thinking about Rahne Sinclair used to do the trick and get him off in fairly short order. He had never done anything more than kiss her, maybe managed the odd clumsy grope, but he was imaginative and could easily fill in the blanks. Fantasies of Boomer and Theresa; hell, sometimes even Domino were put to enthusiastic use.

Lately though, Shatterstar had somehow wandered into the tableau and, instead of ruining the moment, his presence somehow intensified the experience. One moment, Rictor was thinking about Boomer's perky tits (or how he thought they might look), his cock as hard as stone in his fist then, for no damned reason, Shatterstar's dick came to mind. The mere thought made him come harder than usual, semen splattering against his chest and lower belly, his nerves jumping and mind whirling in confusion. What the _hell-?_ He dismissed the disturbing incident as a fluke but the next time he indulged himself, _damned if it didn't fucking happen again!_ As a result, he went out of his way to avoid 'Star as much as possible while trying to marshal his struggling machismo. He came from a deeply religious, gun-running crime family and being manly was not only expected, it was a cultural demand. His upbringing had been filled with homophobic slurs of "joto", "maricón", and "cacorro" hurled at anyone who displayed even the slight hint of any kind of effeminate behaviour. Rictor was straight "soy buga", not some limp-wristed ass-burglar, and went out of his way to prove it.

One afternoon during a rare period of downtime among the group, he tried to kiss Boomer and got quickly shot down. In desperation, he even flirted with Feral and was ignored. She was still visibly pining for the alien, who was off on one of his day-long training sessions out in the desert. Then, Ric heard through the grapevine that Theresa had gotten shitfaced and had thrown herself at Shatterstar. Surprisingly, or perhaps not, the warrior had coldly rebuffed her attempt (to James' eternal relief). Hearing that, Rictor just couldn't figure 'Star out. Among all of them, he was the only one who could have been getting laid on a regular basis and he was choosing to stay unattached. It was enough to turn the Mexican into a complete basket case. It was small wonder, then, why he lashed out at the Mojoworlder that afternoon when 'Star usurped the remote control to the television and began his nonsensical channel surfing. He just wanted to get as much distance between them as he possibly could.

The group made weekly supply-runs into Phoenix and, when it was Rictor's turn to drive, 'Star had made the odd request to tag along. That made everyone extremely nervous. Unleashing him on an unsuspecting civilian population was a little like unchaining a pit bull at a parade. 'Star assured the group it was simply curiosity spurring him on. He had spent so much time watching Earth through the television that now he wanted to start seeing things in person. He promised to be on his best behaviour. Despite his better judgment Rictor vouched for him, and the three hour drive into the city was spent mostly listening to the Hispanic's iPod playlist through the jeep's stereo. He loved hip-hop and heavy metal, a taste that set him apart from the others, and he was stunned when 'Star admitted that he found the hectic thrashing music "soothing". Excited, Rictor spent the rest of the drive acting as 'Star's personal DJ; playing select tracks, providing information on the groups, and talking his fool head off. To 'Star's credit, he actually appeared to be paying attention. What should have been a long, potentially awkward jaunt into the city turned into a turning point for them both.

When the time came to drop 'Star off, Rictor found he really didn't want to. They parted with cautions and wisecracks. Shatterstar's brand of humor was dull and dry. Even he would be the first to admit he was an action star, not a comedian. Afterwards, Rictor spent the rest of the day thinking about him as he went on various errands. It wasn't out of concern that someone would tick 'Star off and the warrior would go nuclear on their dumb ass. He knew that 'Star had self-control and subscribed to a warrior ethic that would forbid him from attacking any non-powered target. Even if that target was a mouthy, mutant-hating human. He had enough sense to walk away, even if the others didn't give him the credit to do so. Rictor wasn't sure how or when he became 'Star's advocate, but he seemed to have developed an insight into the alien's mind the others didn't. He just wanted the opportunity to pal around with him in the city away from the prying eyes and ears of their teammates and Cable. Especially Cable.

Six hours passed and Shatterstar was waiting for him at the precise time and place. Rictor was relieved to see him for no clear reason he could put into words, but was immediately put off by 'Star's reluctance to talk about his day. It was after-dusk and the alien was wearing sunglasses and a coat he had gotten from somewhere and his gruff attitude was particularly unnerving. Rictor ended up pulling over and turning on the dome light. "Take off the glasses, amigo, and look at me."

With a grumble, 'Star did as instructed and turned towards him. He had a black eye and there were bruises on his face. He looked pale and roughed up.

"What the hell did you get up to?" Rictor accused.

"I was abducted by Arcade and forced to do battle," he responded, his voice rougher than usual, as though he had been shouting a lot.

"How come your bruises aren't healing?" 'Star had an impressive healing factor. Not nearly as efficient as Wolverine's, but far faster than a human. Scratches and bruises usually faded in minutes.

"My system is currently taxed. I have extensive internal injuries."

He spoke the words so casually that, at first, Rictor had thought he was joking. "Show me," he found himself asking and 'Star reluctantly lifted up his shirt and displayed the wound on his chest. The gash below his left pec had closed but the skin around it was swollen and a nasty glaring purple. "Madre de Dios," he said, grimacing. "What the fuck happened?"

"Just told you."

"Specifics, hombre. Don't be an ass."

'Star pulled his shirt back down and wearily rubbed his eyes, a gesture the other teen had never seen him do before. In that rough, hoarse voice the alien offered greater detail of his ordeal. Shatterstar had been a top-rated performer on his homeworld's video network slaughter games and his decision to run away and join the rebel alliance had not endeared him to his former master Mojo V. Arcade had been hired by Major Domo, the Master Programmer on Star's home world, to force him to fight against Mojo's Imperial Protectorate. 'Star had been victorious, only minimally wounded, but then had been forced into conflict against Adam-X.

" _Xtreme?_ You had to fight _that_ freak?"

"We eventually conceded to a mutual draw," 'Star said vaguely, leaving out specifics. It was pretty clear that the majority of his wounds were from the result of that battle. Adam Neramani was a hybrid human/Shi'ar warrior with the mutant ability to ignite the blood of his opponent. Rictor had been on the receiving end of that power once and knew it was agonizing and debilitating. All things considered, it was a miracle that 'Star was even still breathing.

"Sonovabitch stabbing you like that," Rictor cursed, more angry at Adam than Arcade. It wasn't logical but the anger was still there nonetheless. "If I ever see that _pendejo_ -"

"It is not Adam's fault. The wound was self inflicted."

"-I'm gonna ... _What?_ You did that to yourself? _Qué chingados!"_

By this point, 'Star was almost looking amused by his teammate's reaction but at least he had the sense not to draw things out for entertainment sake. "It was a strategy that brought about the cessation of further conflict. Windsong was a holographic ruse and Arcade turned out to be an android. It was all quite anti-climatic, really."

"Well, if you say so," Rictor muttered, turning off the overhead light and pulling back onto the road, accelerating. "You know best, I guess. So ... who's Windsong?"

"My wife."

Ric slammed his foot down on the brake and 'Star, who had never understood the importance of seatbelts or used them, went face-first into the dash. " _Fekt!_ " he snarled, cradling his nose. He glared at the other teen through watering eyes.

" _Lo siento!_ Sorry!" Rictor said, pulling over again. "You just- you dropped one helluva bomb there, amigo. You-you're freakin _married?_ "

Checking beneath his nose for bleeding, 'Star mumbled something ugly in his language and finally said, "I was paired with a genetically compatible female when I was a child. At a prescribed time we were expected to mate and add our unique genes to the next generation of gladiatorial warriors."

Rictor grimaced. "The way you put it sounds like breeding cattle."

"That is how we were regarded by the Spineless Ones. Cattle. Animals. Our coupling would have televised strictly for their amusement. I broke ranks and escaped the slave pens before the date of our union. I have never personally met Windsong."

"But it's still like an arranged marriage, right? If ... when you go back, you'll end up with her."

'Star appeared to be genuinely floundering with this topic. "I don't know. Perhaps ..."

"Huh," Rictor marvelled, staring at the alien with a mixture of emotions in his dark brown eyes; respect coupled with a vague sense of disappointment. "That's why you've got no interest in Feral or Theresa. That's really, I dunno, admirable, amigo. You waiting for her an all. That-that's really nice."

"Rictor-"

"My name's Julio, dude. I don't mind if you use it."

Rictor had never made that offer to him before. It sounded like something immensely personal so he felt obliged to do the same. "Gaveedra Seven."

"Gesundheit."

"No, you don't understand. That's my designation. My ... name. Gaveedra battle model of Lot Seven."

Rictor looked at him strangely for a few seconds. "Uh, I think I'll stick to calling you 'Star. It sounds better. No offense."

A semblance of a smile crossed the young warrior's weary features. "Agreed. No offense taken."

There was a span of companionable silence as they simply looked at each other. Then someone drove by beeping their horn and it broke the spell. Rictor cleared his throat and said, "Look, it's a long drive back. Why don't you recline your seat and try to get some shut-eye? I'll keep things quiet."

"You can play your music. I don't mind," 'Star said, settling deeper into his seat and pulling the lever to move the backrest. He put his sunglasses back on and crossed his arms, laying his head back.

"Sure," Rictor said, smiling. He turned on the iPod and selected Rammstein, pulling back onto the freeway. Several times during the drive, Rictor pulled his eyes away from boring tarmac and desert and glanced over at 'Star. The alien was out cold, another rarity, and the Hispanic was a little worried about him. He was slouched in his seat, arms still clasped together, head turned towards the passenger side window. He had a sharp, handsome profile, his full lips slightly parted as he slept. That flowing length of red hair was draped over his left shoulder. For no clear reason, Julio reached out and touched it, finding it just as soft as he figured it would be. When he realized what he was doing, he snatched his hand back and turned his attention back to the road, correcting sharply when he realized he had been drifting over the yellow line. His cock was now a hard, uncomfortable lump in the close confines of his jeans and he bit his lower lip, struggling with conflicted emotions; confused, anxious, and – _oh, god damn it_ \- horny as all hell. And for some twisted reason, it was Shatterstar who seemed to be flipping the switch.

This wasn't the first time Rictor suspected that something might be different with him than just his mutation of seismic energy manipulation. He had been born into a large Mexican crime family that thought nothing of inciting drastic acts of violence against random people for the most minor of transgressions. Homosexuality being a chief trigger. One of his uncles, a weasely-looking prick with greasy hair and missing teeth, had once bragged to Julio that he had stuck a knife in a guy's crotch just because the man had touched his arm "the wrong way". Julio had been thirteen then, already in turmoil over his rising powers, and beginning to become worried because most girls still looked gross. He had much as run away from home to try and escape his mutation as he had from his confusing sexuality. The Right had captured him, tortured him, used him as a weapon for their own purposes before he found sanctuary with X-Factor then, later, as a New Mutant. Among his own kind, he made friends, forced himself to find Tabitha and Rahne attractive because showers with Sam and Roberto were more flustering than they should have been. Over the next few years he assured himself that he was normal, at least as normal as a Mexican mutant in the United States could get. He was a student, he had adventures, and he was straight. Everything was perfectly fine.

_Nothing_ was fine. He was lying to himself and was now beginning to realize that.

The road doubled, tripled before Ric's eyes and he scrubbed away bitter tears from his eyes, cursing under his breath. Cursing everything and everybody, particularly cursing his own traitorous body. It was the first time he allowed the fear that he might actually be gay actually enter his mind and found himself retreating from the very thought, like a small child cringing from a thunderstorm. _"No te preocupes güey. No me importa._ _Estoy no joto. Ay dios._ _¡No, yo no soy un pinche puto! Nel-!"_ He muttered under his breath.

"Urm?" 'Star jerked awake. "... Julio? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, amigo." How the alien had heard his mumbling over the rap music blasting from the speakers was mystifying. That and how his dick seemed to jerk just from hearing his name come from the other teen's mouth. "Just bitching at some _cabron_ who cut me off. Go back to sleep."

Shatterstar glanced out of the windshield but didn't see taillights of the supposed offender. He didn't make any comment, not sure of the slang or its context. His eyes still hidden beneath his sunglasses, he glanced sidelong at his teammate, reading Rictor's uncomfortable body language, and his eyes drifted down. If he noticed the bulge in the Mexican's pants he gave no sign, and settled back in his seat, appearing to go back to sleep.

Julio went back to cursing himself. Silently.

* * *

Translations:

Ric: Qué chingados!"- _What the fuck!_

\- "No te preocupesgüey. No me importa. Estoy no joto. Ay dios. ¡No, yo no soy un pinche puto! Nel!"- _Don't worry about it, dude. It's not important. I'm not gay. Oh god. I'm not some fucking homo! Nope!_

\- "Cabron." – _Motherfucker._


	2. Confessional

Following their trip to Phoenix, Rictor tried to avoid Shatterstar as much as possible but that resolve lasted maybe a couple of days before the two were on a mission together, or doing chores, or training, or watching TV. Rictor reasoned that the lives of mutants were violent, short-lived affairs and as troubling and frustrating as 'Star's presence was to him, he really wanted to spend as much time around him as he could. Hell, they could all die tomorrow, or be captured, or the team broken up and everyone relocated to other splinter mutant groups. The life of a member of X-Force was measured day-by-day. No one looked further into the future than the here and now. No one quite dared. It was like tempting fate.

Most of the time when they were in each other's company, Rictor did most of the talking. He was a natural chatterbox and master bullshitter, and the sound of words were better than the periods of odd silence that sometimes fell between them. During those moments they looked at each other as if trying to figure out a particularly intricate puzzle that neither knew how to solve

For his part, Shatterstar seemed unmoved by recent events; steady as a rock, emotionally no different from when he had first joined the group, though maybe a little calmer. The others had pretty much dismissed him as Cable's mini-me, and even Ric had to admit that "Shatty-buns", as Feral tagged him, was a pretty cold-hearted guy most of the time. In many ways the Mexican envied him for that emotional self-control, but mostly it unnerved him. No one figured that Ric's time with 'Star had made any kind of impression on the young warrior. By now even Cable and Domino were at a loss how to reach him, to try and make him realize that there was more to life than ceaseless, senseless violence. 'Star listened to their words and then went back to his brutal training drills, unmoved. A lost cause, was the general consensus. Too brainwashed. Too damaged.

The fact that 'Star had actually changed, and for the better, was revealed one afternoon during routine maintenance of their Personal Assault Carrier for Recon/Aquatic/Terrain, also known as the PACRAT. Boomer was in the cockpit running a diagnostic of the systems and Rictor was beneath the craft, examining the armor for stress damage along with Theresa and Bobby. In the loading bay were James, Sam, and 'Star, organizing and shifting crates around. Cable and Domino were in the armoury together, probably doing more than just taking inventory. Things were progressing smoothly, which was a rare occurrence among the group, until there was a strangled shout from beneath the vehicle.

"Ah dang it, ah thought things were too quiet," Sam said, running outside with the others.

"-Seriously, I didn't mean it. I pressed the wrong button!" Boomer was leaning half of her body out of the cockpit window, looking down. "It was an _accident!_ "

Rictor was staggering out from under the craft, the upper part of his body one messy, black blob of congealed oil. The only things visible were his eyes. He was waving his arms around as if he was having an epileptic fit and swearing a blue streak in rapid Spanish.

The group ringed around him in stunned amazement, watching his frantic tantrum. All of a sudden, Shatterstar threw his head back and burst out laughing. Everyone turned to look at him, eyes wide with shock. Even Ric stopped thrashing long enough to gape at him before shouting, "It isn't funny, _pendejo!_ Knock it off!" His voice was high and screechy.

That just made 'Star laugh even harder. He fell back on his ass, grabbed his stomach, and brayed uncontrollable laughter. Eventually the others joined in, one by one, looking more at 'Star's antics than poor Julio. By the time Cable and Domino arrived on the scene, everyone was holding onto each other for support, the laughter dissolved to borderline hysterics, all except for Rictor who was looking at his insane friends as if contemplating giving them all seismic enemas.

In the old days, Cable would have broken up the happy party without hesitation, citing military logic and Askani protocols and what other bullshit his head was full of at the time. Now, he simply crossed his arms while observing the scene, and then nudged Domino with his elbow, inclining his jaw in Shatterstar's direction. The warrior was leaning weakly against James and they were both laughing so hard they could barely draw a breath.

"I'll be damned. Pinocchio is a real boy after all," Domino murmured with a smile and then wandered away. She came back with a hose and began rinsing off Rictor, who had no choice but to submit to this final indignity while his teammates pointed and laughed. Cable mercifully stepped in and broke things up.

Later that evening, there was a knock on Rictor's closed door, followed by, "Julio."

Rictor debated not answering. He had holed himself in his room after a fifth shower had finally gotten rid of the last of the oil from his body and out of his long hair. He still felt slippery. _Christ, as if Mexicans weren't considered 'greasy' enough,_ he fretted. He pulled out of his sulk and stalked over to the door, unlocked it, and wrenched it open with a curse. "Get lost!" he shouted up into 'Star's face.

If the warrior looked insulted, he hid it well. He had stunned the Hispanic a few days ago by displaying his grasp of Spanish and used it now, speaking sincerely. _"Rictor, I want to apologize for my conduct earlier. It was unprofessional and I'm sorry."_

" _But still funny as hell, right?"_

Damned if 'Star's lips didn't twitch at the reminder. _"Yes. Very."_

" _You're an asshole, you know that? I figured if anyone would've had my back, it would've been you!"_

" _My response was completely unprecedented. I haven't laughed like that since-"_ he appeared to consider it for a moment and the ghost of smile on his face turned a little sad when he admitted, _"I honestly can't remember."_

Rictor blew air out of his nostrils and the tension in his shoulders eased a little. In English, he said, "Well, considering you're the only one who said they're sorry, I guess I can't stay mad at you."

"To my recollection, everyone offered apologies."

"Well, yeah. Maybe. But you're the only one who meant it," he said, returning back to his bed where he had been listening to his music. He left the door open and 'Star hovered indecisively in the doorway for a moment before stepping inside. They each had their assigned room, which was barely larger than a closet and permitted only enough space for a single bed and a bureau. Cramped quarters, but far more luxurious than 'Star was used to. He had caught sight of everyone's room during their stay at Camp Verde and every one of his teammates had tried to make the sparse quarters as homey as possible. 'Star's was as same as the first day he had moved in and he kept things obsessively neat. Rictor's room was absolute chaos; the walls littered with pin-ups of vivacious young women in various states of undress, the floor covered with dirty clothes, and the bed unmade. There was also a musty, unpleasant odor lingering in the air that the warrior's enhanced senses picked up. He scowled. "Do you require assistance to clean your room?"

Rictor was checking his cell phone, frowning at all of Boomer's text messages. She was past apologizing and now seemed to be writing raps based on the day; _"Twistin in the dirt/ As if he had an itch / Ric lost his shirt / And screamed like a bitch,"_ flashed one poignant note. "I'm gonna kill her," he mumbled. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw 'Star pick up a pair of wrinkled jeans and snapped, "Drop that! I can clean up after myself."

"You should do so. It stinks in here."

"Yeah? Tell you what. Why don't you go fuck off somewhere?!" the teen shouted, pointing at the door. "Last thing I need to deal with today is you and more of your bullshit!"

Recoiling as if slapped, 'Star dropped the jeans and retreated without a word. The instant he was out of sight, Rictor felt bad for blowing up like that. 'Star was kind of like a big red dog that had been badly used and gone feral, lured back to humanity only by a lot of patience and hard work. Julio had done the equivalent of kicking him in the ass and sending him back to the curb. He deserved better treatment and Rictor knew it.

He went in search of the warrior and headed to the media room, but found James and Bobby playing a heated game of Halo and shouting back and forth at each other as they battled the Covenant (and appeared to be losing). Ric turned down the opposite corridor before he could be seen. He glanced into the gym, the weight room, and then the shooting range. Working on a hunch, Ric went to the communications room and found the alien sitting ramrod straight in his seat in front of one of the monitors. 'Star had gone out of his way to hide his vast knowledge of technology from the others just to avoid maintenance drills and upgrades that would eat into his precious training time. Once Cable had been informed of his skills, he began forcing the warrior to use them (to 'Star's resentment). Finding him down here willingly was a surprise.

" _Ay, mi amigo._ _Que onda_ _?"_ Ric greeted, deliberately keeping his voice light.

'Star's lips settled into a rigid straight line, eyes trained forward. The communications net isolated specific bands, scanning across others, while a computer program loaded with tag words searched the conflicting babble of signals for any matches. The others always had to turn the chaotic chatter down before it drove them crazy, but 'Star never did. He listened to the racket for no reason anyone could fathom. Maybe because he was crazy already.

Rictor turned the speakers down and said, "Gaveedra."

The rare use of his name had the expected effect. 'Star looked up at him, startled, before the anger returned to his face. "I did the 'fuck off'. I'm not dealing any 'bullshit'. Why are you here, Rictor?"

It was always kind of funny how badly 'Star misinterpreted Earth slang. Ric had to submerge his amusement and stay on track. "I was way out of line for yelling at you like that. Sorry. I've just- I've really got a lot on my mind lately."

"Your family?"

"Yeah." It was as good an excuse as any.

"Rictor, you have been upset long before the news of your uncle and cousin aired on the Mexican channel. You've been troubled since that day we went to Phoenix."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

'Star looked at him for a moment, his eyes unusually dark and his face carefully neutral. In a low voice, he said something that Ric was horrified to hear come from the other teen's mouth. His own words force-fed right back into his face: " _'No me importa._ _Estoy no joto. Ay dios._ _¡No, yo no soy un pinche puto!'_ " All of the wind was suddenly knocked out of him as if he'd been sucker-punched. His knees buckled. 'Star was quick enough to pull over a spare seat before Ric fell to the floor. Collapsing backwards into it, the Hispanic covered his face with his hands and leaned forward until his forehead was resting on his knees. " _Madre de Dios. ¡Ay c_ _hale!_ _¡Joder!"_ he moaned. He finally looked up, staring at 'Star through a mask of tears and gasped out, "Do you ... do you even know what it means? What I-I was saying ...?"

'Star looked amazingly calm in the face of his teammate's personal crisis. "I have problems grasping English slang as it is, let alone Spanish," he admitted, his deep voice surprisingly soft. "But I suspect your 'gay' reference was not meant to denote a state of happiness."

Rictor stared at him and then betrayed a hoarse bark of bitter laughter, wiping his eyes with the heel of his hand. He should have felt unbearably ashamed right now, crying in front of a guy who had been involved in violence and bloodshed since he could walk, but Ric wasn't. It felt more like a weight had been shifted from his shoulders. Not lifted, but perhaps eased of the strain a little, with someone else to help support the burden of what he was carrying around. "Do you know what g-" He couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. "What _that_ _word_ means?"

"As a personal subtext?"

"I- Yeah, I guess so."

'Star lapsed in thought for a moment. "It appears to be a cultural norm firmly entrenched in your media. I hear the word often in your music. Most shows and movies make reference to it and, many times, showcase characters that appear to represent the standard. It is a state of sexuality, yes? Among humans?"

"It's when-" Ric's voice hoarsened and he cleared his throat and managed to get out, "-one guy likes a-another guy. Instead of girls."

"You like guys," 'Star stated plainly.

Rictor made a frenzied gesture for him to keep his voice down. " _Shit, dude!_ I don't know! That's why I'm freakin out here! I don't know what the fuck I like anymore!" he hissed, running a hand back and forth through his long hair, deliberately keeping his eyes averted. "I'm hoping- praying- it's just a-a phase or something. Until I figure it all out you can't say shit about this to _anyone_. Understand? I mean it, 'Star. Not one fuckin word to anybody!"

"You have my word, Julio. You're the only one I talk to anyway."

Ric snuffled back snot and wiped his face with his shirt, his eyes downcast and his face burning with shame. "You're a good friend, man. Better than I deserve."

The warrior looked more startled to hear that term than at any time during the previous topic of conversation. "'Friend'?"

"Yeah. C'mon, surely you know what _that_ means?"

"Of course. I've just never heard it extended to include me before."

"Huh?"

"I was designed to entertain the Spineless Ones by killing others of my kind. It is a solitary existence. Invitations of camaraderie are not given to ones such as me. Even among the Cadre Alliance I was viewed more as a weapon than as an individual."

Rictor blinked in surprise. It occurred to him that he usually did all the talking when the two were together and really didn't have much of a clue what the warrior's life in the Mojoverse had been like. It sounded like a pretty bleak existence. "You're a member of X-Force, now. We're all friends here."

"They are not like you," he said forcefully. There was an astonishing amount of emotion in his usually gruff voice. "You have gone out of your way to associate with me. The others do it when they have to, or when they are looking for some sort of amusement at my expense. You do so because-because-"

"Because I want to, amigo," and that was certainly the truth. He bumped his knee against the other teen's, deliberately keeping the contact casual. "I like you," he said, and meant it. Oh boy, did he mean it.

"Gracias," 'Star said, his voice sounding almost strained. It suddenly occurred to Ric that things had to be some goddamned lonely for 'Star on this world. He might have just been a slave back home, but at least he had been among others of his kind. Here, he didn't fit in with anyone; human or mutant. He wasn't only from a different world, he was from an alternate dimension, and one from the future no less. Was it any wonder why he came across as so fucked up most of the time?

"Y'know, I've always slipped Theresa twenty bucks to take my turn when it came time for laundry rotation. Think you could give me a hand shovelling out that pig pen of mine? I haven't had any clean socks for days. ¡Ay, caramba! And my _sheets-!_ "

The smile that 'Star flashed him eased the last of his fears. Whatever the warrior knew about gays didn't change his behaviour around Ric in the least. If anything, it was the offer of friendship that meant the most to him. Nothing else seemed to matter. For now, that was all the Hispanic could hope for.

* * *

Translations:

Ric: "Pendejo." – _Asshole_

\- "Ay, mi amigo. Que onda?" – _Hey, my friend. How's it going?_

\- "Madre de Dios. ¡Ay chale! ¡Joder!" – _Mother of God. Oh, damn it! Fuck!_


	3. Awakenings

X-Force lost their homebase at Camp Verde and had to relocate back to New York, settling into one of Arcade's abandoned Murderworld installations located beneath the city. The facility was hard on the eyes and a general nonsensical freak show, but it was near all the pleasantries the former New Mutants and Xavier students fondly remembered. Rictor especially used it as an opportunity to try and jumpstart his heterosexuality back to the forefront by cruising nightclubs and bars on his free evenings. Sometimes Shatterstar went along, most times he didn't. The heavy bass music, writhing bodies, and light shows reminded him of the more decadent Arena tourneys he'd witnessed on his home world; the battles where clothing was forbidden and performers did worse to their victims than offer them a merciful death.

Ever since his talk with Ric in the communications room, he began thinking about Windsong and how their rite of breeding might have gone. He thought about those contorted, screaming bodies in the arena. He thought about Julio and how different he acted in a crowd among strangers their own age. That usual numb feeling 'Star got whenever sex was brought up seemed to be slipping and he was starting to notice things he never had before. Like the way Boomer seemed to jut her chest out when he was around her, the nipples of her breasts poking at the fabric of her T-shirt. Or the bodies of his teammates when they were training together. He found it all extremely unnerving. Like Ric and his questionable sexuality, 'Star didn't say anything to anybody, either.

The only reason he ever went out with the Latino was because the young man would ask him. The offer of friendship had far more of an impact on the warrior then anyone would have thought or suspected. It was dumb gratitude and pitiful devotion all twisted together into some sort of strict warrior code. Just because everyone saw that Shatterstar was a cold killing machine, they failed to realize he was designed to be a slave and still had a submissive mindset that needed to ingratiate himself to anyone who paid more than marginal attention to him. It was one of the reasons why he followed Cable so completely when logic should have told him to do otherwise. Cable was just using him, Rictor had told him one day, and didn't give a fuck about helping with the rebellion on his home world. 'Star actually suspected this but he followed Cable anyway, like some religious zealot who refused to see the contradictions of his particular faith. He would always think of himself as a weapon first, a person second; resolving himself to that bleak existence. Rictor was more interested in the person behind the swords and, for that alone, he had earned a thing that absolutely no one on this world or the other had ever managed to secure: Shatterstar's undying fidelity.

Whenever they went to those obnoxious nightclub gatherings, Rictor immediately transformed into a lecherous, demonstrative aberration; a far cry from his usual moody, solitary persona. As a flesh construct designed to provide grand performances, Shatterstar immediately recognized the changes in his friend's behaviour. For reasons known only to the Hispanic, the confusion surrounding his sexuality was upsetting him and he was going out of his way to try and hide it. 'Star could have told him the futility of trying to act as anything beyond your base design but he wouldn't have known how to express the sentiment. And it was doubtful Rictor would have even listened to him anyway. Julio was human but he was also Mexican, which seemed to isolate himself from the majority of the American population. He was also a mutant, which cut him off further from the boundaries of "normal". Anything more than that simply seemed too much to bear and being categorized as "gay" appeared to be unendurable.

'Star didn't understand Rictor's dilemma but he'd be the first to admit that most of what he experienced on this world made little sense. Everything he saw on the television was a contradiction of itself, particularly when the concept of homosexuality was written into the script. There were shows that seemed to parody the concept (Will & Grace), and dramas that depicted it under the veil of violence (OZ). Virtually every primetime program featured an obligatory gay character and it appeared to 'Star that woman-with-woman unions seemed to be regarded more socially acceptable than man-with-man. The only contradictions that the alien could spot was that the females appeared fiercely empowered by their lifestyle choice while the males were portrayed as somehow emasculated. Seeing that, it made 'Star wonder if being gay was some sort of an affliction and that was why Rictor was so fearful to succumb to it. Perhaps if he did so, he would feel compelled to cut and dye his hair, don piercings and tattoos, wear garishly colored clothing, and move in an exaggerated fashion.

At the Limelight Nightclub there was no hint of that possible deviation. Rictor was dressed in ridiculously tight jeans, a wife-beater, sunglasses, and he was hitting on every woman who so much as looked at him. It was not uncommon for him to pair off with one (or three) and disappear for awhile, coming back with his hair mussed and with red lesions on his neck. He looked happy, which was all that 'Star really cared about even if he, himself, was not. This was not his idea of fun and Rictor's gregarious antics grated on his nerves for no reason he understood. Besides, he had his own issues to puzzle through: A particularly brazen female had laid claim on him and wouldn't leave him alone.

The obnoxious Stecky woman was a common theme at gatherings such as these. 'Star's otherworldly features acted like some sort of beacon and he was always surrounded by women. Some he acknowledged, most he didn't. He had been taught to dance since emerging from the Source, but his individual technique was heavily martial-art themed and highly stylized. He learned Earth routines simply by watching music videos and the people on the dance floor, and imitated their actions with little effort. He was told that he was very good at it. His response was the usual, "Of course."

Considerations of personal boundaries were lost in environments such as these and it had taken considerable self-control for him not to react negatively to touches or gropes in the close-quarters. Following Rictor's example, he even permitted the odd kiss, but he didn't like them very much. The smells of the place threw him off the most; frenzied sweat, conflicting perfumes and colognes, and underneath of it all was that musky odor he had detected in Rictor's bedroom. A sex smell.

Stecky's body radiated that heady scent in waves, catching his attention where most women didn't. 'Star followed after her onto the dance floor as if caught in a spell, allowing her to gyrate against him, permitting her hands to trace the outline of his body through his clothes. He was barely aware of Rictor shouting encouragement from somewhere close by. All 'Star could focus on was that primal, intoxicating scent and the brazen exploratory contact. The bass beat thudded in his ears, matching his heart rate which had sped up to match the frenzied pace. Stecky ran her hand across his chest and down to his stomach and then, without warning, cupped his groin, apparently liking what she found there. Her fingers singled out the length of his manhood and squeezed. He immediately got hard, something that had never happened before, and his reaction was as unpredictable as that day he had laughed at Rictor. Without warning, he panicked and ran.

It was pouring outside of the club, the cold water immediately soaking his clothes and extinguishing the fire in his groin. He crossed the street and sat on some steps and tried to figure out what had happened. Rictor emerged from the club a few minutes later, frantically looking around and finally spotting him. He trotted over and ducked under the doorway to try and avoid the deluge. "What's going on, amigo? How come you left?"

"I believe I've had enough 'fun' for one night," 'Star grumbled.

"Did something happen?" Rictor figured that was actually a pretty dumb question. 'Star wouldn't be sitting here huddled into a ball under a thundershower if everything was hunky dory. "Is it something you want to talk about?"

"I reacted to that woman's touch."

"Reacted? What-? You mean you got a boner? There's nothing wrong with that. Happens to me all the-"

'Star cut in roughly, "No. I am not making myself clear. Until tonight I had never even felt such stirrings within me."

"Oh, I think I get what you're saying. It's okay. I mean, I talk a good game but I've never hit a homerun either. Y'know? Like, scored?"

"You still do not understand," 'Star huffed, laying his chin on his folded arms as he glared across the street. His long red hair was soaked and hanging in limp tangles around his face and shoulders. He looked uncomfortable and clearly distressed. "I was bioengineered to fully simulate physical human interaction, but no one ever bothered to instil the emotional requirements which I have learned are attached to such actions."

Lightening flashed and thunder boomed directly overhead, loud and fierce enough to make Rictor grab his ears and flinch. 'Star never so much as blinked. "Are you trying to tell me that was the first time you ever got an erection?"

"I have woken up with them many times to have them soften after I urinate. This is the first time some stranger's touch caused it to happen."

"That's good. It means you liked it-"

" _I don't know if I liked it!"_ 'Star suddenly shouted at him. "I don't know what I'm feeling! That's the whole _fekting_ problem!"

Rictor looked at him gravely for a moment and then betrayed a strained smile and suddenly started laughing.

"I am falling to pieces and you find it amusing," 'Star said with amazing rancour. He rose to his full, intimidating height and turned to leave. Rictor was immediately beside him, grabbing his arm.

"I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing at this whole twisted situation," the Hispanic said. "Look at the shit I'm going through right now. You think you're the only one who's got problems? In your case, I think you're going through- I dunno, maybe some kind of delayed puberty or something."

'Star appeared to seriously think the matter over. "A dawning of sexual maturity? I'm a little ... old for that nonsense, aren't I?"

"You're asking me? The way you put it, you weren't born. You were created just to fight. Stands to reason those _cabrons_ who put you together wouldn't want other emotions getting in the way of that. When would you have been expected to hook up with that Windsong chick?"

"The union would have been expected by now," 'Star said, lost in thought. "It is possible that there was a deliberate time delay placed upon my libido. Now the deadline is past its date. This is not good news, Julio."

"No? Sounds like it to me."

"How in _Za's Vid_ can I be expected to keep my thoughts on battle when I'm distracted by the impulses coming from my own traitorous body? Are you trying to tell me that this is going to happen more often? That it's _normal?_ "

Rictor simply couldn't hide his amusement. He flashed a bright grin. "Yep. Welcome to the human race, _carnal_!"

"Unacceptable. When we return to base I will castrate myself immediately."

Rictor's smile promptly vanished. It was replaced by a rictus of horror when he realized that his friend was being deadly serious. He could see the blank resolve enter the warrior's faded blue eyes, his face already tightening in preparation for the grim task to come, envisioning it all in his mind. He was really going to do it. " _Whoa!_ What the fuck, amigo?! You don't want to be doing something stupid like that. Let's talk about this some more-"

They were interrupted by Locus's teleportation portal. The others were already in transport and had the foresight to throw them their gear as they were being pulled into some battle. To Rictor, it had to be about the worst timing that he had ever seen. 'Star was already in the process of emotionally shutting himself off and going into warrior-mode. It was like watching a robot cut off its ties to humanity to become more self-sufficient. "'Star, we'll talk about this some more later, okay? You gonna be all right?"

"Of course I will, Rictor," the alien said, his words oddly wooden. "What other choice do I have?"

They were swept into the portal among with the rest of their team and things went straight back to combat and survival mode. Personal matters were shelved in favour of the greater good and the team operated like a finely honed machine; getting orders, executing manoeuvres, and nobody getting their fool ass killed. If that wasn't testimony to a successful mission, nothing was.

They lost their Murderworld base and were invited back to Xavier's Institute, an offer that had never been extended to them before. Everyone was keenly aware how six months before they had all been held captive in jail cells erected in the Danger Room. Now they were being assigned private quarters worthy of some sumptuous New York suite. Ric was particularly bothered by the transfer but it had nothing to do with old resentments. Being under Cable's leadership was bad enough, but there were no such things as secrets under Xavier's roof; not with telepaths, skilled and amateur, running amok everywhere. And who knew what shit Cerebro could dig up if it really needed to? Ric was still struggling with his identity as a potentially gay teenager and until he knew the score, one way or another, he wanted to keep it as private as possible. The Institute ran the gambit of gossip and speculation and he didn't want to be mixed-up in that drama. To make things worse, he got the impression that Cable wanted to stay here for awhile, acting under the notion that the resources and family-themed atmosphere would be good for the troubled young men and women under his authority. It should have come as a comfort to Julio to be afforded the opportunity for some guidance and stability for a change. Instead, he was scared to death.

He became aware that he hadn't seen Shatterstar since they arrived and got settled in and he really didn't like the idea of the alien being alone on his own. The topic of conversation across the street from the Limelight Nightclub had taken a real ugly turn before they were interrupted. 'Star was a pretty quiet guy most of the time but he seemed to have shut down even when the battle was over and they'd moved into the Institute. Nobody but the Hispanic seemed to notice.

He found Roberto talking with their old school chums Rahne Sinclair and Skids. At Julio's approach, Rahne rushed over to him and kissed his cheek. "Ric! Och, I have to say yiur lookin really good. 'Tis good to see ye."

He glanced at her almost as if looking at a stranger. Back when they had been New Mutants, they had kissed and necked a few times when they hadn't been dealing with more madness. At one point in time, Julio was positive he had been in love with her. Now, he felt nothing but a vague sort of affection, something reserved for a relative and not a close one. "Hey Rahney. It's great seeing you, too."

"Bobby's been telling me some o' what ye've been doing with X-Force. Why don't ye join us?" She looked at him with a broad, adoring smile, her green eyes bright and sparkling. "I'd love to hear more."

"Not right now." He turned towards Roberto. "I'm looking for Shatterstar. Have you seen him?"

"Shatterstar?" Skids piped up. "That's a new one. Who's he?"

"You can't miss him," Bobby told her, always eager for the opportunity to impress a pretty face with his smart mouth. "Tall guy, long red hair, has a tattoo over his left eye, carries swords. Kinda acts like Wolverine on meth."

"Knock it off, Bobby. Answer the question," Rictor snapped.

"Knowing him, he's probably shredding shit in the Danger Room. I don't know where else he could be." He saw the concern in his friend's face. "Is something wrong?"

"Naw, he just owes me twenty bucks," Rictor lied, turning to leave.

"Ric?" Rahne was beside him. "Don't ye want to stay here?" _With me?_ was the unspoken invitation.

"I've got other things to do. Maybe later," he said and walked quickly away. The three other teens exchanged incredulous looks and then Rahne slumped down into her seat, lost to an immature sulk.

The Danger Room was locked up tight. According to the notice posted on the wall, it was currently out of commission for repairs. Turning away in disgust, the youth almost ran into Hank McCoy, the X-Man known as the Beast. The blue-furred mutant adjusted the glasses on his nose and smiled pleasantly at the young man. "Oh, greetings, Julio. How are you settling in so far?"

Dealing with the X-Men was always a little intimidating for Rictor. They were almost bigger than life, legends in the flesh, and had a way of looking at you like they were dissecting you with their eyes, testing your worth as a mutant. Considering that the Hispanic didn't feel a whole lot of self-worth at the moment, he didn't need to see the look of disappointment (real or imagined) from people he had once regarded as idols. "Honestly? I miss the base we had in Arizona. We built it up ourselves, without Cable around, and we were pretty happy there."

"And you're not here?" McCoy's voice was surprisingly pleasant to the ear. Low and melodic, almost like a bass purr. Despite his appearance, he was one of the more approachable senior mutants in the house, and Ric's familiarity with the scientist during their X-Factor days helped to settle Julio's frayed nerves.

"When I was a New Mutant, we lived down here in the bunker before the mansion got rebuilt. What really sticks with me is how most of us, me included, got locked in the Danger Room for a week, then were held here under house arrest against our will. Old resentments die hard, I guess."

"Don't think of it like that," Beast said. "Under these new circumstances, we're pleased to have all of you back."

"Uh _huh._ "

"I'm serious. We've had our disagreements in the past but we've battled as allies since. You and the rest of X-Force are welcome to stay here for as long as-"

"Yeah, thanks. Look, I'm kinda pressed for time. We'll, uh, talk later, _comprender_?" Rictor said, walking quickly away.

"No problem. Have a great day," Beast called after him and got an absent wave for his efforts before the young man turned a corridor and disappeared. The X-Man clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth for a few seconds, lost in thought, and then went on his way.

Rictor went through the mansion and concluded that wherever there were people, his friend was likely to avoid that area and, it seemed, there seemed to be students and staff _everywhere_. He went back up to the dorm where the X-Force members had been settled and went to 'Star's room, finding the door locked. Rictor could have cursed himself for not coming here sooner. He knocked lightly on the surface. "'Star? Hey, amigo. Open the door." He waited and pressed his ear to the door and heard nothing on the other side.

Taking a deep breath, the Hispanic regarded the doorknob and then cast a cautious glance up and down the corridor. He grasped the knob in a secure grip and activated his power, shaking the locking mechanism to pieces. He didn't like using his powers in the building. Cerebro was designed to activate and isolate any mutant who used their abilities on school grounds and he didn't want to call attention to himself any more than he had to. He hoped this subtle display wouldn't tip off any sensors.

He pulled the knob free of the door and pushed it open. X-Force traveled light, barely with more than the uniform on their backs, and the only thing on the bed was a couple of changes of casual clothes the Institute had provided and the X-shaped scabbard 'Star wore on his back. Only one sword was in its sheathe, the double-bladed one. The single blade sword was missing. "Oh crap," Rictor muttered. He went over to the bathroom and damned if that door wasn't locked, too. "Hey, 'Star? What'cha doing in there, dude? Is everything okay?"

"Go away, Rictor."

The words were low and barely audible. Julio immediately reached for the doorknob to shake it apart and a two foot length of steel suddenly punched through the wood less than an inch from his left ear. " _Mierda!_ " he cried, staggering back. "'Star, what the _fuck?!"_

"Leave me alone. I mean it." The sword was pulled back through the door, leaving a slit so narrow it was impossible for Rictor to peer through. That wasn't even the problem. The edges of the wood were tacky with blood and that meant it had been on the sword.

"You're gonna have to stab me, amigo, 'cause I'm coming in," Rictor said, wasting no time on subtly. He formed his hands into a gun shape and aimed it at the door, disintegrating it into a shower of splinters. He didn't know what he was expecting to find when he rushed into the bathroom; probably a small room that looked like a bloodbath had taken place, his friend lying in a contorted heap on the floor. Instead, the room was clean, there was a towel in the sink that looked like it had a few smears of blood on it, and 'Star was pressed up against the wall beside the toilet, wearing only a pair of dark briefs and holding his sword in one shaking fist.

"What the hell-?" Rictor growled, suddenly furious.

"I tried," 'Star said in that breathless, stunned voice. "I tried, Ric, but I couldn't. It hurt-"

"Of course it hurt! You were trying to hack your nuts off, you psycho!" Rictor snatched the weapon out of his grip, wincing at the bioelectric feedback that shocked his hand and forced him to drop it. He suddenly whirled around and punched 'Star as hard as he could. All that accomplished was bruise his knuckles and leave 'Star blinking in surprise. Rictor settled for pushing him against the wall and shouting up into his face. "Don't you _ever_ pull shit like that again, you hear me?! You have a problem, you come to me about it. You don't lock yourself away and try to fix things yourself. You don't- you can't-" his voice was becoming ragged. "You can't cut something out just because you don't want to deal with it. It's not that bad. Nothing's _ever_ that bad!"

'Star saw the tears in his friend's eyes and hung his head in shame. "I'm sorry, Julio," he whispered.

"Sorry for making me mad? Or sorry you got caught?"

The alien only averted his eyes and stayed silent.

"You didn't just piss me off, you scared me half to death," Rictor said in an unsteady voice, staring at where his hands were braced against the other's chest. The contrast of skin tones was shocking this close up, dark against light. The feel of the warrior's bioengineered skin was firm and smooth and surprisingly warm beneath his fingers. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Are you all right?"

"The cuts weren't very deep. They healed quickly."

"Oh fuck." Rictor laid his forehead against 'Star's chest and weakly punched his bare shoulder. "Promise me you won't try this bullshit again. Promise me, 'Star."

"I don't think I could muster the resolve-"

Rictor thumped him with his temple, almost like a head butt. He was aware that 'Star's personal scent was faint and musky, carrying a slight perfumed trace of whatever brand of soap he had used in his last shower. "Listen to me. I know you're going through a rough time. I know exactly what you're feeling right now. I just need to hear it from you that you promise to think things over before you go and do something stupid. Get a second opinion. Hell, even a third if possible. You're too messed up right now to make big decisions on your own. We both are. That's why we talk things out first, okay? We gotta deal?"

"It is a deal. I promise I'll go to you first with my questions." The strength was returning to 'Star's voice. Rictor was relieved to hear that.

"If I'm not around, go see Jimmy. He's got a pretty good head on those big ass shoulders of his."

'Star suddenly nudged him backward, staring down at him in confusion. "Why wouldn't you be around?"

"I-I'm just saying I could be away somewhere when a crisis hit, that's all," Rictor said lamely.

'Star looked down at him with concern, his face flushed with color, his eyes a deeper blue than Rictor had ever seen before. The eight-pointed star tattoo over his left eye should have distracted from his handsome face but actually added to the otherworldly features. It made him unique, one of a kind. No one could ever look at Shatterstar and mistake him for someone else. "Julio-"

Rictor was barely aware of the heat flooding into his lower belly. "Wha-what is it, 'Star?"

"People are approaching. At least three. I hear them coming up the stairs."

Rictor whirled around. "Shit! Cerebro must have detected it when I used my powers. Listen up. Here's what we gotta do-"

Cable and Storm were walking towards Shatterstar's room at a brisk pace, with James Proudstar taking up the rear. Xavier had notified the X-Force leader of the power release in the dorm while Cable had been talking with Storm at the time. The X-Man insisted on accompanying him on his investigation. James was just tagging along in case things got out of hand. Rictor was enough of a pain in the ass when he was angry, but Shatterstar could be downright unpredictable.

"According to our records, Rictor is in full control of his abilities," Storm commented.

"He is, but he's also a hothead. Blast first, think last sort of guy," Cable admitted.

"And your other member? Shatterstar?"

"The same, but with swords."

"Nice team."

"They get the job done." Cable reached 'Star's quarters and pushed open the door. The room was empty, both swords on the bed. The door to the bathroom was practically blown apart. Cable covered the distance in great ground-breaking strides. "What's going on in here? _Rictor?!_ "

" _¡Oye!_ _"_ the youth protested, sitting on the toilet. He grabbed his pants and hauled them up to his knees. "How about giving a guy some privacy, huh?"

Storm elected to stay back in the room to give the young man a modicum of privacy. James couldn't resist grabbing a peek and then laughing. Cable's face flushed to an ugly purple color. "What the hell are you doing in here? You have your own quarters."

"I locked my fool ass out. This was closest. Sorry, _jefe_ , but when ya gotta shit, ya gotta sh-"

Cable did a quick about-face and left. "Sorry to disturb you. Carry on."

"Nice team," Storm said again on their way out, her face carefully neutral. James was still snickering. Cable cleared his throat and just glowered.

After he was certain they'd left, Rictor went over to the window and opened it. 'Star was holding onto the ledge beneath it, his fingernails wedged into a gap that was barely a quarter-inch deep and dangling more than thirty feet above the ground. When he extended his hand, his friend helped pull him back up into the room. "I don't understand the necessity of the ruse," 'Star admitted.

"Trust me, the last thing anybody needed to see was the two of us alone in your bathroom with you in just your underwear. It would give people the wrong idea."

"What kind of wrong idea?"

"The G-A-Y kind."

"Oh," Shatterstar said and cast his troubled gaze down to the carpet.

* * *

Translations:

Ric: "¡Oye!" – Hey!

\- "Jefe" – Pops (old man)


	4. Intimate Friends

Following that near-miss in Shatterstar's quarters, Rictor resolved to be on his best behaviour but it didn't last long. Two days later, it was announced that Sam Guthrie was to be 'promoted' and transferred to join the ranks of the X-Men, the highest of all possible honors. On the heels of that announcement, Cable told them that he intended to take a more proactive approach to leadership by establishing a telepathic rapport with all X-Force members. At that second all of the blood in Rictor's body dropped to below freezing. He had been worried enough about Xavier snooping into his brain, and he actually had a decent level of respect for the old geezer. The thought of Cable, who he sincerely disliked even on his best day, bouncing around in his head was unendurable. He quit on the spot.

'Star didn't take the announcement well. He chased after him, having to execute a swift leap over the Hispanic's head to bar his escape. "Rictor- Julio! _Wait!_ You can't leave!"

Rictor found he couldn't meet the other teen's eyes. "I haven't been home since that mess with my cousin. There's still some unresolved shit I've gotta deal with. My family needs me."

"But _I_ need you. Julio, you're my best, my _only_ friend."

"And I'll always be there for you, amigo. You or anybody else on this team needs me, all you gotta do is ask."

"Didn't I just say that?!" 'Star shouted.

They were starting to attract attention. X-Force and new mutant students were standing out in the hall watching them with bright interest. Shatterstar was oblivious to the attention, staring down at his friend's face as if it was all that mattered in the world. Rictor glanced over at Cable and thought viciously, _This is all your fault, you fucker. You're the one to blame for this._ "I have to go, 'Star. I'm sorry," he said, and managed to get past him and go back to his room. He had travel arrangements to make.

'Star stared at his friend's back until he was out of sight and then turned and favored Cable a withering, accusatory look. Cable was surprised to be on the receiving end of such sudden hostility but before he could say anything, the warrior stalked off.

"We'll start running through some practise drills tomorrow afternoon. Until then, everyone's excused," Cable told the others, folding his arms and staring moodily at the far wall.

"Sam, you can report to Storm for a costume change. Again, congratulations," Xavier said pleasantly.

"Thanks!" Sam said and left with Boomer, the pair talking in an excited babble as they rushed off.

"And, just like that, I'm down two people," Cable rumbled. "Guess I'm going to have to go on a recruitment drive."

"Are you certain it isn't three?"

Xavier was staring at the huge man with those calm, hazel eyes of his, the fingers of his left hand cradling his chin as he considered what had happened. Cable frowned at him. "Who? Shatterstar? No, he's steady as a rock."

"We have no records of a 'Shatterstar' in our database, Nathan. He was less than cooperative when your crew was held here under house arrest. You know the protocols involving any appearance of a new mutant. You were expected to provide a detailed report on his powers and skills as soon as possible. He has been with your group for almost a year."

"Yeah, well, I've been kind of busy. Being on the run, dying, being resurrected. Small wonder it slipped my mind."

Xavier regarded him with that same, calm disarming expression. "No time like the present."

Cable blew air out of his nostrils. "What'd Cerebro tell you? Stands to reason you have scans of all of us."

"Cerebro's data on him was ... odd."

"Not surprising. Shatterstar comes from the same dimension as Longshot, only a hundred years in the future. He's bioengineered but a different type. He was designed to fight in arenas. Fast, strong, skilled. Too smart for his own good, sometimes. I'm not sure if he's a mutant or not. He has the ability to generate vibratory force-waves and channel that energy through his swords, but he hardly ever uses that power. I get the impression it severely drains him."

"The Mojoverse is one of science and magic. That explains Cerebro's odd readings and why I have difficulty accessing his thoughts. Why did he come here?"

At that, Cable went silent, struggling to come up with something that would paint him in a more favourable light and not the truth of what he had actually done. Xavier could sense the churning in the older man's mind but didn't press him for an explanation. One telepath could not bluff another and, reluctantly, Cable had to concede to that reality. "His world is in the middle of a rebellion against some despot called Mojo V. Shatterstar was sent back here to recruit the help of the X-Men. He knew about them and how they helped Longshot in a similar situation."

Xavier's calm eyes sharpened on Cable's face. "I was not told about this. None of us were."

"I know," the cyborg said coldly. "I promised him that _I'd_ help him if he joined my team."

"And have you resolved the situation?"

There was another long pause. "No, actually I ... It got put on the backburner. Like I said, it's been a bad-"

Xavier slammed a fist down on the armrest of his wheelchair. "You're using him!"

"He's an incredible asset to the team, Charles. Highly trained, vast technological skills, and follows orders to the letter. A perfect combat soldier. I can't lose him, not right now."

"He came to us for help and you lied to him. We have discussed before how your personal agenda comes at the expense of those around you, Nathan, and Shatterstar appears to be no exception. In fact, he's the perfect embodiment of your trademark selfishness: Isolated, manipulated, dominated." Xavier's eyes had lost that surreal calm and now blazed with anger. His raised his voice and asked: "How are you any different than the forces he's trying to overthrow on his world?"

"He's never said anything since. I figured that he actually likes it here."

"But you've never asked him to find out for sure. What would happen to your 'soldier's' loyalty if he discovered the truth behind your manipulation?"

Cable frowned and forced his indignant, troubled stare out of the window. He didn't have an answer and, really, that was answer enough.

"You've had these young men and women for ten months, Nathan, and I see the changes in them. So have the others. You have used them badly. Rictor's reaction came as no surprise, nor was Sam's relief to leave and join the X-Men. You are going to lose your group one by one if you don't change your ways. They are _not_ soldiers. Most are still teenagers. They need to be treated as such."

"Coddling kids isn't exactly my forte."

Steepling his fingers, Xavier regarded the huge man seriously. "I know. That's why I'm going to insist that you and your group stay here for the interim. No more running off to isolated safe houses every few weeks. Your group desperately needs some semblance of stability. Surely you're not so lost to your own agenda that you can't see that?"

Cable had seen the deterioration of his unit while he had been recovering from injuries at Camp Verde. Theresa's alcoholism, Rictor's insubordination, James' depression, Shatterstar's dissociation, Feral's instability. They were as walking wounded as anyone could possibly be and most of it was his fault. He spared a glance down at Xavier, carefully maintaining his indifferent façade while his words betrayed his true concern with, "Can you help them?"

Xavier smiled. "Nathan, we will certainly try."

After an hour of phone calls and being put on hold, Rictor finally lucked out and found a direct flight to Guadalajara that left John F. Kennedy International Airport early the next day. He really didn't have a whole lot to pack and spent the majority of time saying his good-byes to teammates and friends. Not surprisingly, Rahne managed to find him during one of the rare times he was alone. She was a lycanthrope with a keen sense of smell, whether she changed shape or not, and had been biding her time. "Everyone says yuir leaving," she said, staring at him with those huge green eyes of hers. "Do ye really have to?"

"Yeah, my family's going through a rough patch. Mi madre could use some help at home," Rictor said. The lie was easier to say to her than it was to 'Star, but it didn't make him feel any better. He was running away like a little bitch, truth be told, but he sure as hell couldn't say something like that to his former girl. "We never really got the chance to sit down and talk. I'm sorry."

"We've still got tonight," she said, sliding up against him and wrapping her arms around his waist. "An' we dinna have to talk, either." She raised her head and closed her eyes and waited.

Never one to turn down an invitation, Rictor kissed her. Their mouths molded their sweet curves against each other, lips fluttering together. Ric poked his tongue out and tentatively brushed across her bottom lip and she opened hers just a margin, wide enough for him to slip in and taste her. She moaned in reaction and her hands began getting insistent, sharp nails digging into his skin. The sensation was a distraction and made him want to scratch. He ran a hand through her short red hair and found it dry and coarse, like animal fur. She smelled like pine cones and wet dog and he pulled his face away, stepping back and trying not to grimace. He was close to wiping his mouth but held the gesture back. It would have upset her more than she looked already.

"... Ric?"

"It's not you. It's me," he said in lame defense, although in this particular instance he was probably the only guy to say those words and actually mean it. "I'm not interested in you in-in that way anymore. I- things have changed. I'm sorry, Rahney."

The quick anger was back to her face, the flush of color highlighting the rash of freckles that were scattered across her round cheeks. Rahne was a pretty girl, with her bright, green eyes, button nose and full face, but she would never be considered beautiful. "Who is she?"

"Huh?"

"Yuir seeing someone, aye?"

"What? No. I-I wish, but ... no."

She frowned and stared at him for a long, considering minute. "Have a safe flight, Rictor," she offered dully and left without another word.

After that, Rictor figured that best thing he could do tonight was go to bed and at least make the effort to try and get a few hours sleep. He hadn't been sleeping well since Cable moved them all here, and being a constant bundle of nerves was steadily wearing him down. The sooner he was out of this mansion the better he was going to feel. Then, he could drop the background static he'd been trying to project around his thoughts, guarding his secret fears and suspicions. His reaction to Rahne's kiss was only another red flag to add to the pile. _He used to love her-!_ And now any kind of close contact left him feeling gross. And that was just the kiss and feel of her. His body hadn't reacted to what she'd been ready to offer tonight. Not in the least. In fact, his penis had felt like it had been trying to invert itself.

He walked down the corridor and hesitated outside of Shatterstar's room, looking for that bar of light along the bottom of the door that would indicate the warrior was still up. All was dark and quiet. He could only hope that his friend was coping with the sudden abandonment without resorting to any more attempts at self-mutilation. Ric didn't think he could bear to have that added to his conscience.

He unlocked the door to his room, left hand immediately pawing the inside wall for the light switch, when it dawned on him that he wasn't alone in here. Someone else was in his room sitting on his bed. It was impossible to tell who it was until that figure lifted his head and Ric saw the faintly glowing oval that was the person's left eye. His hand finally found the light switch and turned it on, confirming his suspicion. "'Star?" He was whispering because, by now, everyone had turned in for the night. They were surrounded on all sides by teammates. James and Theresa, in particular, had phenomenal hearing. "What're you doing in my room?"

"You're not the only one who can get through a locked door," the alien responded bluntly.

Frantically motioning him to keep his voice down, Rictor closed the door, locked it and tip-toed to the bed. "Dude, you really shouldn't be in here."

"I am waiting for an explanation," the warrior said in a lower, softer voice, crossing his arms in defiance. "The real one that explains why you have chosen to leave X-Force so suddenly. I'm not leaving until I hear it."

Rictor knew how stubborn 'Star could be when he really set his mind to it. Right now, he had his back up and clearly wasn't going to let this go. Ric supposed if anyone deserved to be told the truth, it was him. He already knew most of it anyway. Because this was personal, Rictor switched over to Spanish knowing 'Star would follow his lead. Some of the people in the building spoke many different languages but it still gave them a little breathing room if anyone tried to eavesdrop on their conversation. "You remember our talk way back in the communication room? About that-that problem I've been having?"

"That you like guys?"

"That I _maybe_ like guys," Rictor hissed. "That's the reason I'm leaving. Once Cable forces all you guys all into a rapport, it means my secret's out. You found out by accident, but that's screwed things up for me in a major way. I don't want to be around when the accusations start flying."

"Your secret will remain safe with me. My thoughts are always in Cadre and the nature of my design makes telepathic contact difficult."

Rictor stared at him in disbelief. "Seriously?"

"Yes."

"So ... it'll still stay just between us?"

"As you wished it. I will never betray your confidence. You're my best friend, Julio."

"You're my best friend, too."

"Then please reconsider-"

"'Star- Gav, I _can't._ "

Shatterstar hung his head and stared morosely down at the carpet. Rictor was stunned to see a tear roll down the side of his nose, perch on the tip for a second, and drop to the floor. It was followed by several others. He didn't sniffle or cough or shudder. His grief was eerily silent, like moisture dripping from a statue.

The sight was enough to make the Hispanic want to start crying himself. "Oh Christ, man. Don't get upset over this. I know you're new to the whole superhero team thing, but people always come and go. It's just how things work around here."

"I don't want you to leave, Julio," 'Star whispered, making no effort to wipe his face. "I know that I'm disgracing myself by showing you my tears and begging you to say. I cannot seem to stop myself."

Julio handed him a Kleen-ex, but he looked at the tissue as if he didn't know what it was. Snatching it back, Ric sat beside the tall warrior and gently grabbed him by the jaw, wiping the tear trails from 'Star's face as gently as he could. "I just can't stay here. If you move to a different place, or if Cable kicks the bucket again, let me know and I might rethink things. For now, this is just the best. Sucks for you, I know. I'm sorry."

"Julio-!"

"No, Gav. It's done. No more arguing, okay?" He wiped under the eyes and gave his nose a playful little squeeze before discarding the tissue. 'Star looked at him plaintively and then leaned forward until their foreheads were touching. Ric drew in a surprised breath at the unexpected contact. He reached up to push his friend back, but his fingers sank into that jungle of red hair and didn't want to let go. If Rahne's hair had reminded him of an animal, then 'Star's was like sliding in freshly spun silk. He was immediately mesmerized by the sensation. "Oh god, Gav... "

'Star's eyes opened and stared at him, still that amazing shade of blue Rictor had seen a few days earlier, the eyes ringed with long blond lashes. No freckles on those angular cheeks. Not a mark of any kind. His features looked like they were chiseled out of marble with just a few brushstrokes of color, red eyebrows and hair, striking black tattoo, added to make the creation look human. 'Star was absolutely flawless; a testimony to his designers, and Ric had never seen anyone so handsome in his entire life.

He cupped the other side of 'Star's face with his free hand and moved in for a kiss. He was probably going to get knocked through the wall for this, but was desperate to see if the person in his masturbatory fantasies felt as good as he looked. His mouth fastened over the other's and pressed gently. 'Stars lips were just as full and soft as he imagined they'd feel. Ric counted the span of five heartbeats and then pulled back, staring at the alien warily, as if expecting a punch to the face.

'Star's posture hadn't changed. He looked exactly the same, although the pupils of his eyes had dilated a little. He offered a slight smile and murmured, "Better than the antics of that miserable Stecky woman to be sure."

"It-it was okay? You're not angry?" Rictor could hardly believe the reaction.

"How could I be angry? You're my friend." In a lower register, he whispered, "You like me."

"Yeah, I do. I- Damn, Gav, I've liked you for awhile now."

"I know. I saw your state in the jeep when we returned from Phoenix."

"You saw that?" Rictor stared at him and then shook his head, uttering a bewildered little laugh. "I'll be damned. Man, nothing gets past you, does it?"

'Star's eyes skimmed across Rictor's face and dropped down to his friend's lap. His smile became almost a smirk. "Not much, no."

Blushing, Rictor pulled his shirt over his bulging crotch. "So, what does this all mean? Are you trying to tell me that you're ... that-that you like guys, too?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. "We've only just begun puzzling out my emergent sexuality a week ago. It's all very confusing. The only thing I'm certain about is that I know that I like you, too, Julio. Is that a sufficient answer?"

"Better than I could ask for," Rictor said, his voice had grown hoarse with emotion. He grabbed the front of 'Star's shirt with almost panicky fingers, clenching and unclenching the material. "'Star, I want ... I'd like-"

"What, Julio?"

"I really want to kiss you some more. All right? If you- y'know, start feeling weird about it, just tell me, okay? And I'll stop. No problem, no hard feelings. I don't want you to think I-"

'Star blew out an exasperated breath and grabbed the back of Rictor's head and pulled him close, cutting off the incoherent babble with his mouth. The Hispanic was shocked for maybe all of two whole seconds before he pressed eagerly against his friend. Their mouths opened and it felt like a bolt of electricity shot up Ric's spine the instant their tongues connected. "Oh God, Gav," he whispered, licking the teen's bottom lip and then devouring that mouth again, their tongues mingling wetly. He finally managed to pull his head back, breathing heavily and staring at the alien with a dazed expression on his face. "How- Where did you learn to kiss like that?"

"From watching the television," 'Star admitted. A flush of hectic color had risen to his face, almost matching his hair. "Unfortunately, my research is limited to that area. Domino locked out all the adult stations. Besides, the data-"

"I know. Guy and girl. Doesn't really apply to us," Rictor said, chuckling softly. He was trying to think back to the last time he'd felt this happy and simply couldn't do the math. It seemed to be years. "That's actually okay. It's kind of nice to just ... go with the flow for a change. You understand?"

"Not really."

"To perform without a script."

"Oh, improv. Yes, I understand."

"No pressure, no expectations. Let's just hang out and see what happens," he said, taking his shirt off and sliding back on the bed, settling against the pillows. "We're long overdue for some fun, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes," 'Star said, following his friend's lead and unbuttoning his shirt, slipping it down his toned arms. "Although your interpretation of 'fun' is often different from mine."

"Not where this is concerned. You just don't know that yet," Rictor grinned, watching the larger man slide up along side of him. It was like watching some dangerous predator stalk its prey. Every movement Shatterstar made had purpose and looked graceful, as if he were always performing for an audience, even in private moments like these. The Hispanic slid a hand along that broad expanse of chest, marveling at the warrior's stunning build. No amount of weight-lifting or stomach crunches in the world could give Julio a body as perfect as that. He had to submerge a pang of jealousy and be content that 'Star was here. With him. Who else could brag about that?

They kissed again, hands running restlessly over each other's arms and sides. Julio tried to assume the more dominate role and force 'Star on his back, gradually laying over him, straddling his legs. Ric's mind was still sending him mixed messages about being a man, and assuming control of a relationship, and all of the other bullshit his macho relatives had all but beaten into him. 'Star didn't seem to care one way or the other, happily losing himself in the moment. For once in his life he wasn't having to strategize, or fight, or train, or worry about an attack, or- worst of them all- be bored. There was just Julio and his lips on his mouth or on his neck or wherever they wanted to go, and those warm hands touching him in ways he had never thought to touch himself. He could get used to this, just these kisses and caresses, and be content forever.

Julio slid one hand down 'Star's ripped stomach and across his ribcage. He ran a hand along one clothed hip and lightly skimmed the warrior's groin, eyes flying open at what he discovered the same time 'Star released a loud bark of surprise. Slapping a hand over his mouth, Rictor glanced at the door, ears straining for movement in case someone reacted to the sound. "Shit, man! You have to be _quiet_ ," he hissed.

"You touched me!" 'Star mumbled around his fingers.

"You're hard as rock, buddy. You're gonna have to learn how to deal with it."

"I'll go urinate-"

"That's not going to cut it anymore. This isn't some piss hard-on, dude. It's a full blown boner. The only way you're gonna get rid of it is to have sex or jerk off. I'm betting you don't have a clue how to do either."

"I-I have seen on the television- I-I ... have-"

Rictor pulled his hand away, smoothing the soft strands away from the other teen's forehead and stared calmly down at his flushed, anxious features. "This is my last night here. I can teach you how to deal with it. Do you trust me?"

"I- Of course, Julio. But-"

"It's gonna feel really weird, being your first time an all." Rictor was starting to feel a little light-headed and excited at the prospect of what was to come. His own cock was throbbing with almost painful force. "If you need to shout, do it into the pillow, okay?"

At this point 'Star was beginning to look more than a little unnerved. "Is this going to hurt?"

"What?" Rictor was staring at the bulge pressing at the fly of 'Star's pants and looked up, startled. He broke out into a broad smile. "Oh Christ, Gav. No. It's one of the best feelings in the world. It's just ... it's really an intense rush. You're probably not used to it. Use the pillow if you have to make any noise. I know you like an audience but you might not for this. Some things are meant to be private."

"O-okay, Julio."

"Try to relax. I'm a professional," he said, giggling nervously.

Rictor forced himself to work slowly, trying to imagine how he would have liked to have this happen to him, and what would have put him off. No quick movements. No witty banter. It was all about touch and patience. It was all about making sure that 'Star associated this as a positive experience, something he would try to do to himself if the need arose, instead of running away. Or cutting it off. Lord knows if anyone deserved a little pleasure it was 'Star, and Julio was glad to be the one to give it to him.

He unbuckled the belt to 'Star's pants, unbuttoned them and eased the zipper down, tugging the material apart to gain better access. 'Star's cock was tenting his underwear and Rictor brushed his fingers along that covered length, the mere contact earning him sharp flinch and a quick inhale of breath. "It's okay, Gav," Ric murmured, loosening his own pants and gripping his straining hard-on with one desperate hand while lightly stoking 'Star's with the other. He had a sneaking suspicion that neither of them were going to last very long and reached under the underwear to draw that heavy length into view.

At the feel of his fingers, 'Star gasped and pulled the pillow over his face.

Rictor gasped, too. It was the first time he had ever held another guy's dick and he had to credit himself with being fortunate to have this impressive specimen to practice with. 'Star's cock was just as big as he'd figured from those furtive glances he'd taken in the shower room. Long and thick, jutting straight up, the glans and shaft almost purple. He was circumcised but there was no trace of scarring anywhere along the member, another indication that he had been designed that way from scratch.

Rictor wrapped his fingers around it and pumped once, almost knocked back as 'Star kicked out in blind reaction. He did it again and again, moving slowly as he yanked his own dick in his pants. 'Star wrapped the pillow tightly around his face, probably in danger of smothering himself, and the muffled sounds he made were as sexy as all hell. Rictor closed his eyes and sped up the pace. In the span of just a few minutes, he released a barely smothered grunt, coming into his own hand. A few seconds after that, 'Star arched his back and dug his heels into the mattress, shouting into the pillow as he ejaculated, squirting an amazing amount of semen into the air and across his stomach. He spurted several more times as Rictor pumped him before rolling away and drawing into a shuddering, groaning ball.

Rictor stood up on trembling legs and got out of his soiled pants, staggering into the bathroom. He washed his hands and moistened a hand towel and rubbed his softening dick clean. He carried the towel into the room, climbing back on the bed beside the contorted body of his friend and gently shook his shoulder. "Hey, 'Star? You okay?"

The alien slowly pulled his head up from the damp pillow and stared at him, his eyes dull and unfocused. He blinked at Rictor for a few seconds, as if trying to recognize him, and suddenly broke out into a huge, dazzling grin. "Can we do that again?" he asked in a breathless, excited voice.

Rictor had to drop his face into the pillow to smother his relieved laughter.

"This will _seriously_ subtract time from my training schedule in the days to come," 'Star told him much later, lying on his back with his arms folded behind his head. It looked like he was trying to pout but too satisfied to pull it off.

Lying beside him, Rictor snickered. "I told you that you'd like it."

" _Za's Vid_ , that's an understatement. Thank you, Julio."

"Hey, you gave as good as you got." That was the truth. They hadn't done much more than perform mutual masturbation on each other. True to form, 'Star was a fast learner and had talented fingers. Rictor felt raw, chaffed, spent, and deliriously happy all at once. "Thank _you_ , Gav."

"I don't suppose this changes your decision to leave?" 'Star asked hopefully.

"No. The flight's booked. I already told my step-mom I was coming."

"Has it eased your troubled mind any, then?"

Rictor rolled his head over to look at him. "I think it makes things a lot clearer. I'm-" he swallowed and finally managed to force the word past his lips, "-gay. God, it's hard to say that out loud but it's really the truth. I'm really gay. Fuck."

"I know I can't ease your distress. I don't understand what you're feeling. I wish I could be of more comfort to you, Julio."

"What're you talking about? You- _Shit, dude._ We're lying naked in bed together! You can't get any more comfortable than _this_ ," he waved a hand over their bodies, lying hip to hip. "I still need to get away from here and try to wrap my brain around all of this. It might take awhile, but I'll be back."

"When?"

 _When Cable kicks the bucket_ , Rictor thought resentfully. He glanced over at the clock on the nightstand, trying to duck the question. "Is that the time? Crap. I have to get up in four hours. I really need to get some sleep."

'Star frowned at him in confusion. "Do you want me to leave?"

"If you stay, all I'm gonna do is grope you some more."

"That's not exactly an incentive to get me out of the door, Julio."

Rictor laughed and gave his friend's shoulder a half-hearted push. "I still want to keep this- what we did- on the down low. Being found in bed together won't help the situation."

"If you say so," 'Star said neutrally, sliding off the bed to retrieve his clothes. He began putting them back on with the same languid grace as when they had come off and Rictor watched him do it, wanting to tell him to stop. To come back to bed. God, he didn't want this night to end.

"It really doesn't bother you, does it?" Rictor marveled, his voice sounded a little awed. At 'Star's curious stare, he elaborated further. "What I am? What we did? Y'know, this means you're probably gay, too."

Pulling on his shirt, 'Star offered a vague shrug, a gesture he had picked up from one of them during his time on Earth. "I am what I am. The opinions of others do not matter to me, Julio. You should feel the same."

"I'm trying," Rictor mumbled, watching him walk toward the door and quietly unlock it.

"You need to try harder," 'Star said, and left.


	5. Bloody Farewell

The Guadalajara flight left JFK at ten o'clock and, thanks to terrorists (the non-mutant variety) it was now necessary to arrive two hours before the scheduled flight just to check-in and go through the hassles of excessive security. Julio was running late the minute he cracked open one weary eye and saw that he had forgotten to set his alarm. His initial confusion was spotlighted by sore muscles and an aching crotch. It had taken 'Star some control to learn subtlety where handjobs were concerned, no mean feat for a guy who could lift/press five tons. All things considered, it was a miracle that Ric hadn't woken the whole house. His poor ol' pillow had gotten one strange work-out last night, that's for sure. It looked like it was ready for the trash bin.

Scrambling, he grabbed a quick shower (more of a rinse, really), dressed, grabbed his duffle bag and ran down the stairs taking three at a time. "Ay ay ay! I'm late!" he shouted, sprinting through the master room. Seated on the couch in front of the big screen TV, James checked his watch and looked at Roberto, holding out his hand. Bobby slapped a wad of bills into his palm with a look of disgust.

"I need a drive!" Rictor shouted into the kitchen, where Rusty Collins and Feral were arguing over the last bowl of Cheerios.

"Can't drive," they said in unison and then looked at each other suspiciously.

"Screw this, I'll hotwire a car from the garage," Rictor muttered and ran past the front window, hit the brakes, and backpedaled to look outside. There was a yellow checkered cab coming up the driveway.

"I honestly thought ye'd sleep in past the flight but James won the pool," Theresa said, coming up to him flanked by the rest of the X-Force team. "But at least I got the time of the cab right." There were some quick hugs and backslaps exchanged before Shatterstar grabbed Rictor's duffle bag and took it outside to where the cab driver was opening the trunk. Cable and Domino were absent for the send-off and that suited the Hispanic just fine. When the farewells were over and done with, Ric went to the cab and saw 'Star was already seated in the back.

"You comin along, amigo?" he said, smiling as he settled in beside him.

"Do you mind? Boomer said it is acceptable for a friend to 'see you off' on your trip."

"I can't think of anyone better for the job," he said, lightly punching 'Star's shoulder, but offering no closer contact.

Their driver was from some obscure middle-east country and Rictor established that things were 'safe' when he asked the surly man a few questions in Spanish and got an irritated wave for his efforts. Satisfied, Ric conversed with 'Star in the drive to the airport. The Mojoworlder really didn't understand the necessity of all the subterfuge, or his friend's repeated cautions about not letting the others know about them, what they'd done, what they might be, and etc. The alien was a little miffed by these warnings; he had never been one to hide his true nature, but it bothered him to see such obvious fear coming from Rictor. 'Star knew he was vastly different from humans but he had no desire to be one, and his friend's obvious distress over what the alien thought was really a non-issue was one of the reasons why.

The taxi driver was new on the job, got lost once, and then let them get delayed by traffic. By the time they got to the airport, the entrance was blocked by a huge group of Genoshan protesters. Rictor had maybe twenty minutes to get through security, go to the correct terminal, check-in, and board. It was good that 'Star had tagged along because he managed to prevent Rictor from attacking one particularly obnoxious mutant-hater. Tensions were running high as people were shouting and being jostled. It was a miserable send-off for Rictor, who was already highly stressed. 'Star wasn't much better, if the anxious, unhappy expression on his face was any indication. Seeing that, Rictor decided to throw caution to the wind and give him a hug goodbye until they were interrupted.

Cable, in disguise and with Domino beside him, had appeared to try and mend fences. Rictor realized he had two choices; tell the old bastard what he wanted to hear, or speak his mind and miss his plane. In a rare act of patience, Ric shook hands with his former leader, projecting that desperate static around his thoughts just in case the untrustworthy mutant was trying to sneak a peek. He flashed 'Star a furtive, saddened glance just before he left to board his plane.

Shatterstar hung around the lounge until he saw Julio's plane taxi down the runway and then lift into the sky, watching the blinking caution lights until they disappeared. For some reason, he was filled with a desperate sense of loneliness even though he reasoned that he still had X-Force to fall back on. It wasn't the same. They were teammates, but they were not friends. His friend was gone.

Cable and Domino offered him a ride back to the Institute and he accepted readily enough even though he knew Cable was the reason why Rictor had felt compelled to leave. Once upon a time, Shatterstar had referred to the huge mutant with the reverent distinction of "Lord Cable" and had gotten down before him on the bent knee of supplication. He had sworn his loyalty and received a promise in return, one that had not been fulfilled. 'Star idly wondered if he should have left with Rictor. He was not one who abandoned comrades out of petty motivations, but his respect for Cable was waning and he was not close to the others. All of this left him feeling confused and distracted and angry. He was in a sorry state to fight and that was why, when the protest got out of hand, he ended up getting shot at point blank range by some crazed gunman.

The energy blast punched through his stomach, tore through his guts, and punched out of his back, leaving an exit hole the size of a fist. He went down hard, barely aware of Domino appearing beside him and shouting something. The crowd had turned into a screaming stampede and the mercenary barely managed to drag 'Star out of harm's way before he was trampled.

"Oh shit, oh shit, kid. Oh shit," she fretted, doing a cursory examination with the experience of a combat war vet. Massive trauma, damaged organs, busted ribs. She winced. Healing factor or not, this was bad.

Despite the damage, 'Star's concern was narrow-minded; "My ... swords-" He gagged, coughing up blood.

"I've got them. Shut up. You need to conserve your strength." She really didn't want to move him but they were smack dab in the center of a political mess and the feds were going to appear soon and lock the place up tight. They had to make tracks.

She looped one of 'Star's arms around her neck and pulled him up to his feet. It was remarkably easy. The alien had hollow bones and that made him about half the weight a guy his size would normally weigh. He wasn't even a hundred pounds. Domino could put him in a fireman's carry if she absolutely had to. Fortunately, he had come around just enough to stagger along beside her. They found Cable and managed to get out of the terminal and back into their car, speeding away just as the first police cruisers pulled up to the terminal.

"Contact the Institute," Domino said, crowding over 'Star who was sprawled in the backseat bleeding all over everything. "Tell McCoy to prep for possible surgery."

"No Whitecoats!" 'Star cried.

"Shut up!" Cable hollered back at him, negotiating around traffic while concentrating on talking to Xavier telepathically at the same time.

Domino grabbed a pressure bandage from a med kit stored under the seat and put it in the alien's hands, directing him to place it against his stomach. "Hold it as tightly as you can," she directed him, pushing another against the hole in his back. It was immediately drenched. She added another on top of it. And another. "Shit kid, I thought you were a quick healer."

"Starts inside ... works its way out," 'Star rasped, blood dripping from his lips. His right lung was perforated and his breathing was labored. "Wound's not fatal ... just messy ... that's how the Audience likes it ... bloodier the better ... great ratings."

"Wow. You are from one severely fucked up world."

He drew in a ragged breath and simply nodded in agreement.

"McCoy's getting the infirmary prepped. He'll be waiting for us when we pull up," Cable said. He glanced up at the rearview mirror. "What the hell was that all about, Shatterstar? Rushing blindly into combat like that?"

"Nate, not now!" Domino fretted, flashing her lover a dirty glare. She was covered up to the armpits in the young man's blood.

Cable pulled his eyes away from the road and twisted his massive bulk around to look at 'Star. The wounded youth glared back, eyes narrowing in anger. "I mean, seriously? What the hell were you thinking?"

"Shut up and get your eyes back on the road!" she shouted. "This isn't the time for-"

"I trained you better than that! You've been hanging around Rictor too damned much! When you're back on your feet we're going to-" He suddenly paused and cocked his head, as if listening to something.

"What's that sound?" she asked. There was a low, uncomfortable buzz in the car, growing in volume and making the fillings of her teeth ache. She looked over at Shatterstar and found him glaring steadily at the back of Cable's seat, his teeth clenched. "Oh no! 'Star, don't-"

Shatterstar's swords were lying on the floor of the passenger's side, thrumming like live wires. They suddenly flashed and all of the windows of the car exploded in a hail of glass. Nathan instinctively shielded his eyes, sending the car skidding to the left and dragging along the concrete median before over-correcting and almost plowing them into the ditch on the other side of the road. He managed to get a firm hand on the wheel, brushing glass out of his silver hair. "You okay, Dom?"

"Now that you're back to looking at the road? Just peachy," she grumbled.

"'Star?"

Domino looked at the injured alien. He was slumped down in his seat, head resting against the side of the passenger door, the twisting wind currents inside of the car turning his long hair into a riotous mess. She pressed two fingers against the angle of his jaw and found a pulse. It was thready and weak, but better than the alternative. "He's out cold. Using his power in this state was just too much for him." She could count on one hand how often the Mojoworlder used his mutant ability. "I think the bleeding's slowing down."

"Good," Cable grunted and then lapsed into angry silence the rest of the way home. His mood wasn't helped by Domino commenting that if he'd kept his mouth shut at the beginning they wouldn't have had to be subjected to a goddamned wind tunnel during the drive. By the time they pulled up to the front door of the mansion, Hank was there with a stretcher surrounded, it seemed, by the entire student body. The members of X-Force went to the car as Cable hauled their wounded member out of the back seat. 'Star's clothes were crimson from his chest right down to his knees. He was starting to come around now, in pain and out of sorts.

"Och, what a mess," Theresa said, wincing at the sight as they helped him on the stretcher. Several of the students were ogling at the bashed car. Hank was getting a report from Cable and Domino. "Ye-yiur gonna be okay, lad," she comforted, trying not to grimace.

He stared up at her. "My swords ..."

"Ye dinnae worry about them-"

"They're all I have left!" he shouted, breaking off and coughing. Crimson streamers flew from his lips.

"Here they are, 'Star. Here you go," Jimmy appeared by his side, handing him the sheathed weapons. 'Star grabbed them and clutched them to his chest. He appeared to gray out again, hugging his swords with panicky possessiveness, even while unconscious.

"Okey dokey, let's go," Hank said, wheeling the stretcher back into the Institute. "Make way. Make way. It's alright, everybody. Typical day in the life of a mutant. Nothing to see here."

"Wow, he's really out of it," James muttered to himself. He had never seen Shatterstar act like that before.

"We saw on the news that there was some riot at the airport," Roberto said, eying the car. "Were you guys in the middle of that?"

"Unfortunately," Domino said, grimacing at the drying gore coating her arms and clothes. "Shatterstar jumped into the middle of things and, well ... you saw for yourselves the result. He said the wound wasn't fatal and I take him at his word."

"But Rictor got away okay?" Boomer asked.

"Yeah, the shit didn't go down until his bird was in the air."

Bobby couldn't contain himself any longer. "What happened to the freaking car?!"

Domino glanced over at Cable who was staring at the front door of the mansion where Professor Xavier had appeared. The two appeared to be in silent conference. "'Star got ... agitated and used that vibration power of his. We almost went off the road," she said.

Theresa looked at the others, sharing her troubled frown. They all seemed to be thinking along the same track. "It's because Rictor left. He's still upset."

"I'd say that's one way to put it," Domino said. "Look, kids. He's going to be okay, so don't worry. Me, I really need to get inside and take a shower. I'll give you guys an update when I have some more news." She went into the mansion while the rest of the team members and students were left mulling over a disturbing display that was, sadly, representative of a mutant's life in this day and age.


	6. Downtime

An unknown time passed before Shatterstar opened his eyes. His first sight was of a sterile lab surrounded by banks of unfamiliar electronic equipment filled with the stench of antiseptic. The room was unfamiliar but lacked the carnage that indicated it to be a Mojoverse Whitecoat lab; no spare body parts lying around in stasis, no 'patients' screaming, no vids broadcasting shows, no music blasting from speakers. The silence made his head ache. Shatterstar had been in constant sensory deprivation since arriving on this world and didn't take peace and quiet very well.

His mouth was bitter with the taste of sedation and his right side ached. His fingers probed the site of the wound and he found that he was bandaged. With the experience of a thousand injuries similar to this he gauged that he was about 70% healed, meaning that at least twelve hours had passed. The organ damage appeared to have repaired itself although he still detected a stitch of discomfort when he tried to draw a deep breath. The broken ribs were, as always, the slowest to knit back together. Still, he was well enough to fight, if necessary, and had been forced into arena tourneys in far worse state.

Instinctively, he looked for his swords and saw them lying on a table on the far side of the room. He extended his hands and the weapons flew through the air, hilt-first, to land in his secure grip. They were tuned to his DNA. No other could wield them. It was just as he'd said while lying on the stretcher that morning; they were all that he had left of home. There was a pang in his chest at the reminder that he dismissed as part of the healing process.

"Heh. Neat trick," commented a cultured purr.

He twisted around, brandishing his swords in a defensive posture and immediately dropped the aggressive stance when he recognized the individual. "Lord Beast," he said, bowing his head. "Are you responsible for treating my wounds?"

"Yes, that's right."

" _Datreb,_ " 'Star said sincerely, adding, "Thank you."

"Well, you made things remarkably easy for me with that healing factor of yours," Hank said pleasantly, coming over to the bed and checking the computer monitor. "If all mutants had one it would certainly make my life simpler."

"I'm not a mutant. I'm a bioengineered combat model held in exclusive contract to entertain in the Mojoverse slaughter games," 'Star said automatically.

"Oh?" Hank raised his eyebrows, peering at the young patient over the top of his glasses. "What about that vibratory shock-wave generating ability of yours?"

"It's just a wildcard deviation added to my genetic structure as an afterthought to make my performances more entertaining."

"Actually, that's a very apt definition of how a mutation occurs in the human genome."

"Really? I didn't know that."

"Uh huh. Welcome to the family." Hank shined a pen light into 'Star's eyes. He lingered on the tattooed left side, watching the pupil and retina fade to blank white and slowly reappear again. It was a fascinating reaction, one he had seen displayed by only person before. "You don't use that power very often."

"I did when I was younger, before my skills as a warrior became refined. I use it now strictly as a tactic of last resort."

"And because it exhausts you."

Shatterstar didn't answer. He didn't like betraying a weakness to anyone, not even to a coveted hero like an X-Man. He jumped when the electronic cuff around his right bicep began to compress and reached up to rip it off.

"Calm down," Beast said, grabbing his hand. "I'm just checking your blood pressure."

"The lack of media input is making me jumpy," he admitted, running a shaky hand through his red hair. "Can you turn on a vid? Or play some music?"

"Sure," Hank said, offering him something familiar; a television remote. Shatterstar turned on the power button and a flat screen monitor bolted on the nearby wall came to life. He did his rapid fire channel search until he landed on MTV, a station he had periodically watched with Rictor. That sense of loss came back with almost crushing force and the remote tumbled from his fingers and probably would have fallen to the floor if Hank hadn't caught it. A day before, 'Star had experienced true ecstasy for the first time in his life. Now, he was injured and stuck in a house full largely of strangers. Out of time and out of place. A relic from the future. He gripped his head and dug his nails into his scalp, struggling with raw emotions that he'd never felt before. Despair, fear, loss, resentment. It hurt, worse than the pain in his side. Oh, it hurt so _much-!_

There was a sensation of a prick in his arm. When he slowly swung his head around, he saw the blue-furred mutant holding a hypo in one huge hand. Hank offered a comforting smile to his confused expression. "Just a little something to help you sleep, Shatterstar."

"Sedation doesn't work on me," he said, even as his surroundings began to get fuzzy and indistinct. That bitter taste was back in his mouth.

"A special little concoction of mine," Hank said, gently easing him back on the bed. "It can knock out Wolverine for almost a whole hour."

"But my-my system's not as-" 'Star swallowed and struggled to complete the sentence. "As efficient as ... Lord Wolverine's ..."

"No, I suspect you'll sleep through the entire night," Hank said, watching the young man's eyes slip closed despite trying to fight it. "Which is something you probably haven't done for quite some time," he finished softly.

Afternoon of the next day saw the training of X-Force taking place out in the ball field behind the mansion. The Danger Room was off limits as long as Sabretooth was in there wandering around in a peaceful simulation, sniffing the fake flowers. Cable would like to take the crazy sonovabitch out with a bullet to the temple so he could get the Danger Room back and properly train his personnel. He had a feeling he wouldn't be allowed to stick around anymore if he tried it (even though he really wanted to) so looked for other options.

He was trying to establish a group psi-link with his team and having trouble marshalling his telepathic powers to encompass everyone, and it wasn't even a full group. Sam and Rictor were gone and Shatterstar was still in McCoy's sickbay. Of the remaining members, only simple-minded Caliban was the easiest to communicate with. Boomer was distracted by a puzzling concern for Sabretooth that might have to be addressed if it escalated any further. Jimmy was thinking about Siryn and marshalling up the courage to try and ask her out for a date. Roberto, still shrugging off his Reignfire persona, was thinking in a curious blend of languages; his native Portuguese, English and, for some reason, Askani, a language of the future that Cable was intimately familiar with. He couldn't understand how the young mutant could know it. Theresa's thoughts were all about her role as the team's Deputy Leader while she struggled with the dull after-affects of a hangover. Her drinking was beginning to get out of control again. Feral was thinking about Shatterstar and her thoughts about the Mojoworlder were lustful and vulgar. What she wanted to do with him was almost enough to make Cable want to reach inside his head and claw the images from his brain. All-in-all X-Force was an atypical collection of teenagers and young adults, he mused unhappily; all raging hormones and personal problems wrapped up with the distinction of being a super-powered mutant in a troubled world. All he wanted to accomplish today was have them play softball while he tried to direct them with his thoughts. It was giving him a migraine.

His cell phone went off, indicating a call that had been routed through the mansion switchboard and was intended for him. Grumbling, he picked it up. "Who the hell is this?"

" _Nice greeting, 'mano. You kiss Domino with that mouth?"_

"Hello Rictor. Burro Airlines managed to land your plane in one piece, apparently. What can I do for you?"

" _Trust me, jefe, I didn't call to talk to_ you _. Stupid computer bumped me to you for some damned reason. I asked to talk to 'Star, tell him I got home okay."_

"Shatterstar's not available at the moment."

" _Huh? What d'you mean?"_ There was a clear note of concern in the Mexican's voice. _"Where is he?"_

Just for a split second, Cable debated not telling the young man what had happened at the airport. Rictor would only find out from the others later, and then hold further resentment towards him for delaying the news. For all of his faults, the Hispanic was a powerful mutant and had been a genuine asset to X-Force while a member. Cable didn't want to alienate him further in hopes that he would eventually return. "He's recovering in McCoy's medi-lab-"

There was a blaze of furious Spanish before Rictor demanded: _"What the hell happened?"_

"A gunfight erupted among the Genoshan militants at the airport right after you left. 'Star got shot. He's almost completely healed now. Don't worry-"

" _There you go again; givin me orders. If it took him that long to heal then it must've been serious. How bad off was he?"_

"He's going to be fine."

" _That ain't what I asked you."_

Cable blew air out of his flared nostrils in a huff. "It was a through-and-through with a high gauge blast pistol. Tore through his upper intestinal tract, turned his right lung to Swiss cheese, and severed two ribs. He bled like a stuck pig until we got him home. Satisfied?"

There was stunned silence on the other end. Just the faint hiss of distance in the connection before Rictor's voice eventually came back. It had lost its smartass tone. _"You said he's gonna be all right? You mean it?"_

"I'm waiting on a final report from McCoy as we speak," Cable said, checking his watch. He realized that the doctor was an hour overdue on the results of his final evaluation. That was entirely unlike Hank and it filled Cable with a vague sense of dread. "By this evening I imagine that 'Star will be back being a pain in my ass. Oh no, wait. That was _you_. My mistake."

" _Beso mi culo,"_ was all Rictor had to say and hung up.

With a sigh, Cable returned the phone to his back pocket. He looked over at his unmotivated team now all arguing back and forth on the ball field and sent them all a thought wave to get their attention. After that he tried to get them to work together in silence, linking their minds together; an exercise in frustration if ever there was one.

Back in McCoy's sickbay, Shatterstar was watching "Raiders of the Lost Ark" on the television, listening to Metallica from a portable stereo, and playing chess against Hank all at the same time. Beast was distracted by the conflicting noise and _really_ wanted the peace and quiet of his lab back but, as astonishing as it seemed, 'Star's blood pressure and stress levels actually went down the more chaotic his surroundings became.

"It's somewhat curious that in all of the time you've been with X-Force no one has run a complete diagnostic check on you," Beast said.

" _Snakes! I hate snakes!"_ Indiana Jones screamed from the monitor.

'Star looked up at the movie and then eyed the chessboard before glancing over at Hank. "For what? I feel fine. I _always_ feel fine. Where I come from, seeing a physician is a sign of weakness. Knight to Bishop three. Check in four moves."

" _Life planned out before my birth, nothing could I say / Had no chance to see myself, molded day by day,*"_ blasted from the stereo at the same time there was gun fire in the movie. It sounded like someone was unloading a machine gun right in the med bay.

This had been going on all afternoon and Hank was beginning to get a headache. The scientist was frankly fascinated by the teenager and every new tidbit of data he discovered. He had initially thought that the Mojoworlder was going to be a repeat of Longshot; a sincere, competent individual who, sadly, wasn't that bright, had the attention span of a hummingbird, and was more interested in adventure than combat. He and Shatterstar couldn't be more different from one another. 'Star was younger, smarter, highly focused, and expertly trained. He was also, in Hank's careful observation, the more emotionally damaged of the two.

"That wound you received yesterday," Hank commented, eyeing the chessboard and trying to think up a strategy that might save his King piece. The kid was very good and seemed to have blocked all possible avenues of redemption with a strategy that was efficient and completely unorthodox. The X-man had won the first two games but was beginning to suspect that 'Star had been biding his time, evaluating the older man's style before finally launching his attack. "How would you have coped with it on your world if you wouldn't have voluntarily seen a physician?"

The movie went to commercial and 'Star appeared riveted by the marvels of something called a Snuggie. It took some effort for him to realize the X-Man was waiting for an answer and told him, "I coped with such injuries the same way I dealt with everything else: Alone."

Hank stared at him in shock while the stereo belted out: _"Will this earth be good to you? / Keep you clean or stain you through?*"_ and the infomercial switched over to a shrieking ad for McDonalds. At that moment, Cable walked in through the door, immediately flinching at the racket. He telekinetically turned down the volumes on the TV and stereo (to Hank's relief and 'Star's resentment) and looked expectantly at the blue-furred mutant. "I'm shipping out, McCoy. I need a simple 'yes' or 'no' as to whether I can take 'Star."

"I'm working with a baffling alien biology here; hollow bones, no white corpuscles. The closest resemblance I have on file is to our former teammate, Longshot," Hank admitted.

'Star looked over at his leader and said, "Don't listen to him. I'm fit as a cello."

"Uh _huh_." Cable looked unconvinced. "McCoy, you make the call."

"Well, if you can manage without him, I'd like a few days to run some tests."

" _Fekt!_ A few days?!" the young Mojoworlder said in disgust.

"Look at it this way, 'Star. You'll have plenty of time to rethink how you got into this mess in the first place," Cable said smugly, walking back out of the sickbay and letting the doors close behind him.

 _I'm here right now because you drove Rictor away,_ 'Star thought in sudden fury, glaring at the closed doors. His first instinct was to reach for his sword and throw it at the approximate spot Cable would have been outside of the lab but he managed to submerge the impulse. He pressed the knuckles of his left hand to his forehead and tried to calm down. It took more effort than it should have and when he looked up again, Hank had reset the chessboard. "Another game?"

"No. This inactivity is driving me crazy. I want to go train."

"I haven't cleared you for anything strenuous yet. I _do_ have a treadmill you can walk on-"

"That is a pointless aerobic diversion-"

"Take it or leave it."

"You and your nonsensical rules and endless procedures," Shatterstar grumbled, moving over to where the treadmill was sitting. It took maybe a few second's glance before he figured out how it worked and started the machine. Hank had already disabled all but the lowest settings. If he hadn't taken that precaution, he was reasonably sure the youth would have cranked it up to sprinting speed in a matter of minutes. Forced to do nothing more than an intolerable stroll, 'Star was still muttering. "I heard from the others how wonderful this Institute was supposed to be. I fail to see the allure. Our base in Arizona was superior in many ways."

Hank was monitoring the teen's vitals from the sensor wrapped around his right bicep and noted that 'Star's blood pressure had skyrocketed. "That's very interesting. You're the second member of X-Force to tell me that. Rictor said the same thing a few days before he left."

At the mere mention of his friend, 'Star glowered down at the threadmill display, stamping his feet more than he was walking and obviously upset. Seeing the youth shutting down on him, Hank tried to press the issue. "I understand that you miss Julio but-"

" _Do not speak to me of Julio!"_ 'Star suddenly exploded, screaming in Cadre and not even aware of it. " _This infernal place made him nervous and Cable chased him away! Do not speak his name! You have no right!_ "

"I don't speak that language," Hank said in a level voice. "Shatterstar, please calm down. I'm not your enemy."

" _Fekt!_ " was the last thing Hank heard him utter before he went silent for the rest of the day.

Theresa Cassidy was opening her third can of Guinness when her cell phone rang. It was almost nine o'clock in the evening and she was exhausted from having Cable in her head and from trying to assume the tattered threads of deputy leadership left in her lap after Sam's departure. She honestly didn't know how the Kentucky-born mutant had been able to handle it. "Hello?" she said into the phone. It came out sounding like a sigh.

" _Dios, what the hell is wrong with that switchboard system up there?"_ A quarrelsome voice said in her right ear.

Theresa perked up. "Rictor?"

" _Hola gringita. How're things going?"_

"Honestly? It's shite, mate. We spent all day runnin around like chickens with Cable yellin in our heads. I'm thinking maybe ye had the right idea."

There was the sound of laughter. _"If you want to come down to Mexico, I can always make room in my bed for you, corazón. Just say the word."_

"Pervert. There's me word."

" _Aw, that's not very nice. Listen, the real reason I called you is because I've been trying to get a hold of Shatterstar but I keep getting bumped around. First to Cable, then to the answering system. Where the hell is he?"_

"'Star's confined to the sickbay. Cable told us he's off the active roster for the next couple of days."

" _What?! When I spoke to Cable this afternoon he never said anything about that. I just heard that 'Star was in bad shape after that shit at the airport."_

"Cable might'a downplayed things for yuir benefit, lad. 'Star was a right mess when they got here, but I'm pretty sure something else happened on the drive back. Fer some reason, 'Star used that vibration power of his and busted out all the windows of the car. Even Domino looked upset." There was a curiously long pause on the other end of the line and Theresa asked in a softer voice, "It's because ye left, isn't it?"

There was a barely perceivable sigh on Rictor's end and then; _"Yeah, probably. You know 'Star doesn't process emotions very well at the best of times. My leaving the way I did might've tipped him over. Hey ... I don't suppose you can sneak your phone into the lab so I can talk to him?"_

"No, the lab's sealed up and no cell phones are allowed inside."

" _Dios Terry. You've been under Xavier's roof for barely a week and you're already obeying the rules? Since when has any member of X-Force ever done that?"_ There was a teasing note to Rictor's voice, but he was clearly miffed at the same time. He was just trying to hide it so he wouldn't piss her off.

Theresa realized that he had brought up a good point. Their impulsiveness and unorthodox approach to things was what marked their team as unique. "I'll see what I can do," she said, smiling.

* * *

*Metallica - "Disposable Heroes" and "Where The Wild Things Are"

Translations:

Ric: "Beso mi culo." – Kiss my ass.

\- "Hola gringita." - Hello little white girl (term of endearment)

\- "corazón." – (sweet) heart.


	7. Snikt!

On the evening of his second day of captivity in McCoy's lab, 'Star was rebuilding a laptop he had taken apart with some tools while watching a Law & Order marathon and listening to "The Four Seasons" by Vivaldi. The classical music was Hank's idea, figuring that the teenager needed to gain a broader range of musical appreciation than hip-hop or thrash metal. The mere fact that the alien found the assault created by such groups as Disturbed and Nine Inch Nails as "soothing" troubled the X-Man for no reason he could put into words. It wasn't until 'Star had explained the nature of Mojoverse arena battles that Hank began to understand the attraction. During the slaughter games, the combatants had been bombarded with conflicting music as each fighter had a piece that was composed specifically for them. As each warrior fell, their selection was dropped until only one piece was left playing at the end; that of the victor.

Hank had to admit he was fascinated. "So you each basically had your own soundtrack."

"Exactly!" 'Star said, flashing the scientist a rare smile. The only time he really came out of his shell was when he talked about his battles, reminiscing about slaying foes with the same detachment a human might use to describe a shopping trip. In those rare moments when his guards were down, he appeared much younger than he looked or acted. "My theme was heavy with frenzied drumbeats, fierce guitar riffs, screeching vocals. It was a top pick on the sound-chart ranks for over a year."

"I wish I could have heard it," Hank said politely, although he suspected that it probably would have made his ears bleed doing so.

"I wish you could, too," 'Star murmured, staring dreamily at the TV but not really seeing it. His thoughts were in another place and time.

"'Star, how old are you?"

The alien looked over at him, startled by the change of topic. "I survived fifteen years before escaping the slave pens and running with the Cadre Alliance for another two. I have been on Earth for ten months, eleven days, fourteen hours-"

"You're a lot younger than you look," Hank said honestly.

"Yes and no. When I emerged from the Source, already psychically downloaded with combat and archival data, I was able to walk and talk. It is considered Season Zero but my size would have been closer to an Earth child four or five years of age. We are matured rapidly with growth supplements during our training and achieve our true height by Season Six. Amateur combat against crèche-mates takes place for another four years before those who survive are promoted to the Primetime arenas. I was a top-ranked performer for the next five years before I escaped."

To Hank it sounded like a bleak and brutal existence, but the pride in the youth's voice was unmistakable. "It sounded like you enjoyed it. Why did you leave and join the rebels?"

"The combat _was_ glorious," 'Star admitted, his blue eyes still vague as he relived some past battle, but his face gradually began tightening up. "It was the only time we were truly free of oppression or control. It lasted for two hours a night, four or five if it was sweeps week, and then we'd be locked behind bars again. We were dependant on our keepers for the most basic of needs. I was a famous star, yes, but I reaped no rewards save that of my continued existence. Over time even that distinction was not enough to sustain me. My only two options were to either choose cancellation or escape. I did the latter."

The youth had all of Hank's attention at this point. "How did you accomplish that?"

"It was ingenious, really. I was alone with a Spineless One who had procured me for an afternoon to dance -"

"Hold on a minute. Dance?"

"Yes, _dance,_ " 'Star repeated irritably. "Have you not been listening? My kind were created solely for entertainment. Our forms were designed in deliberate contrast to the Spineless Ones who had no trace of gender and they derived pleasure in exploring our bodies and watching as we danced in the nude."

Hank really didn't like where this topic of conversation was going. To hear 'Star talk about such perverse displays so nonchalantly spoke volumes on how deviated his childhood truly had been; the exploitation of a minor in the most base circumstances imaginable. "'Star, you don't have to talk about this if you don't want to," he said sincerely.

The alien youth only looked puzzled by the X-Man's concern. "We are designed without modesty; to perform as efficiently in the arenas with clothes as without. I did not mind being used in such a manner. It got me out of my kennel for a day. I performed as ordered and, when the Spineless One was lulled into a false state of calm, I killed it and crawled inside the body."

Beast had been sipping at a cup of tea and- hearing that- gagged on a mouthful and started coughing. "Oh my _god-!"_

Totally misinterpreting Hank's reaction, 'Star broke out into a broad, slightly crazed, grin. "As I said: ingenious, yes? The search was made for me while the Spineless One's body was removed for disposal. It was taken past all the guard posts and sentries and out of the limits of the main dome while I safely hid inside. From there, it was a small matter to escape to the wilds and join the Cadre forces."

Running a hand through his thick blue mane, Hank tried not to show how badly the revelation bothered him. _Fifteen years old,_ he was thinking. _A fifteen year old kid who had spent ten of it killing his classmates and brainwashed to think that performing naked in front of strangers was normal. A fifteen year old kid who had crawled up inside of another creature's corpse like it was a sleeping bag and used it as a means of escape._ What made things even worse (if that was even possible) was 'Star's reaction to the whole thing: Calm, detached, without much emotion one way or the other. Maybe he had been designed that way, Hank was still on the fence on that one, more likely the youth had learned to bottle it all up as a coping mechanism. If that was the case then maybe the wall was starting to break down, of the few odd emotional swings he'd witnessed lately were any indication. And if that was happening-

Hank started getting worried. Not just for Shatterstar, but for anyone caught around him if he suddenly broke down. He wasn't in league with Wolverine's level of lethality (at least, not yet), but he was still extremely dangerous. Not for the first time, Hank wondered just what was going through Cable's mind to let such an unknown be a member of his team.

"Fascinating," was all he could offer 'Star, who appeared to be waiting for some kind of acknowledgment. "Simply amazing."

Satisfied, the youth went back to reassembling the laptop. He appeared pleased with himself and the readout on the monitor confirmed it. Relating an experience that would have reduced anyone else to a sobbing puddle of goo seemed to have actually relaxed him. Hank got the impression that 'Star liked talking about himself but wasn't encouraged to do so very often. Probably because his past was so damn upsetting. Maybe that was why he was so attached to Rictor, who had endured a similarly terrible childhood. The pair had that in common.

There was a knock on the door and Hank glanced up at a security monitor and saw Theresa Cassidy standing outside of the lab. "You have a visitor."

'Star turned expectantly to the door but his posture became slightly guarded when he saw it was Siryn. Hank noticed it all with a keen eye. "Good evening, Terry."

"Aye, hello Dr. McCoy," she said brightly. "'Star, how ye doing, lad?"

"I'm bored," he responded honestly.

"Well, yuir in good hands," she said walking over to the table where the alien was seated. "I brought ye a wee snack." She uncovered a plate of cookies.

'Star looked at then dubiously for a few seconds and then up at her. "Did ... _you_ make them?"

"Och! No. Ye know I can only make hockey pucks. Boomer baked 'em. Peanut butter, yuir favorite."

When the plate changed hands 'Star felt something nudged into his hand and recognized what it was immediately. His face betrayed no surprise as he made it disappear with slight of hand. "To my recollection, her _friend's_ recipe is superb," he said, staring at her expectantly.

"Aye, everyone loves 'em. She made sure the last _ten_ were for ye to enjoy in _private_. If ye'd like some more I can _talk_ to her."

"This is more than sufficient," 'Star said, smiling at her and dropping his voice to say sincerely, "Thank you, Theresa."

"We take care of our own," she whispered, adding a wink. "G'night, 'Star. Dr. McCoy."

The scientist added a distracted wave and the X-Force deputy leader took her leave. Silence fell over the medi-lab as Hank typed up a report of his conversation with 'Star while it was still fresh in his mind, and 'Star puttered with the laptop while snatching furtive glances at the wall clock. When it was almost ten o'clock, the alien began composing an explanation to go to the bathroom for a lengthy session when Hank suddenly stretched in his seat and peered into his empty cup. "Oh, well look at that. I guess I'm going to have to go to the kitchen for a refill. Might take me, oh, twenty ... maybe twenty-five minutes to brew up a fresh pot. Will you be all right left here on your own for awhile, 'Star?"

The youth looked at him, startled, until he recognized the barely submerged smirk on the X-Man's face. "Yes sir," he mumbled.

"Give my regards to Rictor," Hank said and walked out of the door.

'Star realized his little exchange with Siryn had been completely transparent. "Fekt," he muttered in disgust and pulled out the cell phone Theresa had passed him. There was a slip of paper taped to the little screen and he dialled the number. It was picked up on the first ring. _"Gav?"_

"Julio," he said in relief, switching over to Spanish. "Take caution: Code 45."

Code 45 was X-Force jargon that meant the conversation was likely being monitored. No communication took place inside of the mansion without being evaluated and taped for threat assessment. That included cell phone transmissions.

" _I know. I used to live there, remember? I've been getting the run-around since yesterday and really wanted to talk to you, find out how you're doing."_

"You heard about what happened at the airport?"

" _I got some of it from Cable, but you know what he's like. He only tells you what he wants you know, not the whole story. What went wrong?"_

"I attacked a target without performing a proper threat assessment first and lowered my guard, leaving myself wide open to attack. It was a foolish, amateurish mistake."

" _That doesn't sound like you, buddy."_

"I was distracted by your departure," 'Star said frankly. "Cable began yelling at me in the car and I lost my temper and did damage with my mutant power. Both rash acts are out of character for me."

" _I'll say. Is that why you're confined to the sickbay?"_

"I've my suspicions that may well be so. My wounds are fully healed but Dr. McCoy insists on keeping me confined here for several more days. He keeps asking me questions, evaluating my responses with equipment."

" _Wow. I've gotta say you sound amazingly calm, considering. I think I'd be seriously freaking out."_

"I am _not_ calm. I _am_ freaking out. I want them to-to-" he sputtered for a few seconds and suddenly spat out: "I want to tell them to do the 'fuck off'!"

There was stunned silence on the other end before Rictor burst out laughing. Shatterstar looked surprised hearing that in his ear until he realized what he'd said and eventually joined in his friend's good humor. Soon, the two were practically in hysterics, laughing for the sheer pleasure of it; two lonely teenagers relieved to hear each other's voice.

After that, Rictor spoke about his homecoming, which had been less than stellar given the nature of his last visit two months before. Relatives were dropping by to visit their freak mutant relation like he was some rare creature on exhibit, but his step-mother was accommodating and grateful for the company. The Richter family made good money through illicit means and the local police, one of the few precincts that wasn't on the take, was starting to give the family grief. _"I've got little cousins gearing themselves up like the Terminator down here,"_ Julio told 'Star, betraying a strange laugh. _"It really isn't funny but kinda is, y'know?"_

"No, I don't. As usual," 'Star sighed, eating the cookies Theresa had brought.

" _I just mean we've seen such amazing things and- you gotta admit- wear some damned strange clothes most of the time. Now I got relatives trying to imitate some character from a movie-"_

"It is surreal. Is that what you mean?"

" _Yeah! That's it exactly."_

"Julio, are you in danger down there?"

" _Against these punks? Naw. Me showing up here has calmed things down a bit. Word gets out fast when there's a badass mutie on the block. Maybe not as badass as you, Gav, but I can still get my point across."_

'Star was starting to laugh again. "I would not like to tangle against your big bad ass, Julio."

" _Hey! Are you're makin fun of me? You jerk."_ Rictor was chuckling despite trying to act indignant. " _It's good to hear you laugh, Gav. You sounded pretty down when we first started talking. How are you feeling now?"_

"Much better." He glanced at the clock. "McCoy will be back any minute. He knows of this phone ruse but I'd rather not flaunt it in front of him."

" _I hear that. You've got my number now. You call me anytime you want. Okay?"_

"I will, Julio. Thank you." And he meant that. _Za's Vid_ , did he mean that.

True to his word, McCoy was back exactly twenty-five minutes from when he'd left and by then 'Star was back to working on the laptop, the cell phone tucked away and out of sight. From that point on, the alien's conduct became startlingly stable with no visible emotional shifts and by the third day, after a visit from James, Roberto and Caliban, the X-Man decided to let 'Star rejoin his team. He wrote a detailed report on his findings and observations that was forwarded to Professor Xavier, who reviewed all of the data thoroughly.

Cable was also given the same report, but he put it on his "to do" list to read later. He was just relieved to have the skilled warrior back with the team and wasted no time running them through manoeuvres in the yard, still struggling with rapport issues. 'Star was receptive to the psi-link but the nature of his alien mindset and cross-dimensional existence made Cable's contact tenuous at best. Fortunately, the youth was someone who could follow orders through without distractions, professional to a fault.

At least, that used to be the case.

For 'Star, returning to his team brought back the complications he had hoped (prayed) were just a fluke of the days leading up to his injury. Once again, he was finding his attention being diverted by the close proximities of Boomer and Theresa who, he concluded, were fine human specimens of the female persuasion. Even Feral's more brazen contact didn't bother him like it used to. She usually had the bad habit of letting her tail establish contact in areas she wouldn't dare let her hands wander. 'Star had threatened to cut it off on more than one occasion. The threats never seemed to bother her. Because of their similar natures, Cable liked to team them up together. Currently, they were making short work of the War Games taking place in the woods behind the mansion. Caliban and Siryn, and Boomer and Sunspot had already been picked off.

 _*Domino and Warpath have split up*_ Cable mentally instructed the duo. * _You have the choice to do the same or continue to work as a team.*_

 _*Acknowledged*_ 'Star sent back.

* _Whatever_ * Feral responded.

"Warpath's abilities have increased tenfold in the past month," Shatterstar murmured, crouched low in the bushes beside the feline mutant. "His speed, strength, and senses have become particularly acute. Domino has vast experience and tactical knowledge and her mutant ability to alter odds in her favor makes her a dangerous wildcard. We should split up as they have done. You can take James-"

"Nope. Don't wanna."

"Domino-?"

"Her neither," Feral said shortly, fixing him with a direct stare. "I'm stickin right by you."

"They are the last two obstacles. When we defeat them, we will be victorious."

"So what?" She snorted in irritation. "S'not like we get some cash prize or a trip to Vegas, Shatty. We do it right today, we just gotta do it again tomorrow. The whole thing's stupid."

He looked at her in confusion. "I don't understand this sudden change in attitude. You were eager to do this at the start."

"I wuz eager to pair up with _you_ ," she corrected. "I don't give a shit 'bout stupid games. Games are fer kiddies and we ain't that. Not any more." To lend import to her words, she leaned in closer and let her tail slide up his leg and brazenly flick against his crotch.

'Star had a hand lightly braced against a tree and his fingernails suddenly dug into the bark. "Feral, don't-"

"What Shatty-buns?" she whispered, letting the tip of her tail rub back and forth between his legs. "Go ahead, tell me to stop."

He bowed his head and closed his eyes, struggling with submerging his desire and trying to keep his mind trained on the mission. It was almost impossible. Twice in the last four days of group training, he'd had to slip away to the bathroom and masturbate. While the action helped him regain his focus, he was more than aware that if it happened in the field, his current lack of control could make him a potential liability. Feral was proving his fears right now. The actions of her tail were making him erect and thoughts of pursuing James or Domino were rapidly fading to the background. He just wanted her to keep doing that and didn't move a muscle. He was barely even breathing.

"I smell the change in you," Feral whispered. Her breath tickled against his neck, rising gooseflesh along his arms. He shivered. "Tell me what you wanna do. What d'you want?"

"I ... I don't know," he admitted. "This is all new to me."

"Virgin," she grinned, showing a row of bright, very sharp teeth. "I gotta say, 'Star, that kinda surprises me." She pulled her tail away and replaced it with her hand, making him gasp in shock. Her sensitive fingers could feel the bulge straining against the cup of his jockstrap. She resented that hard plastic barrier and impatiently unclasped his belt and began yanking at the waistband of his costume.

"Feral-" he choked, bracing his back against the tree.

"You gonna tell me to stop, 'Star?" she asked, pulling the spandex down his hips and tugging at the elastics of the strap. She fixed him with a curious look. "Huh?"

"I ... no," he said weakly. "No, Feral, don't stop."

"Call me Maria," she murmured, running her tongue along the patch of skin beneath his belly button, tasting salt and sweat. He may have been bioengineered but he didn't smell it and he certainly didn't taste it. Her hand fastened around his hard cock and brought it to view. He didn't feel artificial either. "You're one well-hung bastard, 'Star. I'm gonna enjoy this," she growled, and fastened her mouth over the head and sucked hard.

" _Ky!_ Za's Vid-!" 'Star groaned, flinging his head back hard against the tree trunk. Feral's tongue was rough, just like a cat's, and she licked up along the underside of the shaft and then took it deep into her mouth, letting her sharp teeth rake lightly along the overly-sensitive skin. It probably would have been too painful for a human, but 'Star was created to be more durable and actually relished the rough treatment.

"I want ya to fuck me, 'Star," she panted against the throbbing meat. She licked the oozing head a few more times then gave it a sharp tug. "C'mere."

He dropped strengthlessly to his knees and she slipped off the bottom half of her uniform. "You ever touch a pussy?"

Barely able to form words at this point, he could only manage a shake of the head. She grabbed his hand and placed it between her legs, holding it in place and rubbing it back and forth. She was furry, and soft, and very wet. She guided one of his fingers and slipped it into a slick heat that felt like a silk-lined glove.

While he probed that tight channel, she squeezed his hard cock. "That's where it goes in. You got it?"

"Yes Maria," he managed to rasp out.

"Let's do this, big boy," she said, rolling over onto her hands and knees and raising her bare ass into the air. Her tail was up high and waving back and forth like a flag. "Stick it in me, 'Star. I wanna feel that big dick."

He slid a hand along that moist cleft, locating the slick hole, and grabbed his cock to line it up. Just as he was about to slide it in, there was a **_Snikt!_** sound less than an inch from his right ear and three claws sank into the wood of the tree right beside him. Feral looked over her shoulder and all of the hair along her back began to rise in fear, her tail puffing out to twice its size. Shatterstar was frozen in place, trying to will his neck to turn. His wide eyes followed one muscular, hairy arm to its shoulder and then finally up to the disapproving scowl of an angry face looming over him.

"L-Lord Wolverine ..." he said in a strengthless whisper.

"You dumb kids ain't fooling around out here without condoms, are you?" the X-Man growled.

Feral screamed, a combination of terror and rage. She grabbed the bottom half of her costume and sprinted off into the brush.

'Star took off in the other direction, pulling up his pants and looking desperately over his shoulder. He was brutally tackled by Warpath and the pair went sliding in the dirt. "Got'cha!" the Native American shouted triumphantly, getting up and assuming a wrestling stance. "C'mon, buddy, show me what you've got."

'Star spat out a mouthful of dirt and managed to raise himself on one elbow, moaning. He was still hard. Being slammed crotch-first down into the ground by a teammate almost two hundred pounds heavier just about took all the fight out of him. "I yield," he croaked and dropped his forehead back to the ground.

Domino grabbed Feral less than a minute later and the dishevelled pair were paraded over to Cable, who had been having a mighty interesting chat with Wolverine. Less than fifteen minutes later, the two teenagers were sitting side by side in a meeting room while Cable paced back and forth, at a rare loss for words. Domino was reclining in a chair in the corner and struggling to keep a straight face. Feral was curled comfortably up into her seat and leisurely preening the tip of her tail. Shatterstar was bent over with his face in his hands, completely mortified.

"I honestly- I can't- I don't know what's going on with you anymore, 'Star," Cable was sputtering. "You've rushed blindly into combat, gotten injured, used your power in a non-combat situation, ignored a training session, and got caught having unprotected sex with a teammate-"

"Not true! We were interrupted," Feral pointed out, clearly still upset by that.

"You're not helping," 'Star grumbled at her.

" _What the hell is going on with you?!"_ Cable shouted. He pointed at Feral. "Her, I can understand. More cat than woman, I get it. But _you-!_ You're made for combat, designed to be a warrior, and trained to follow orders."

That last part rankled with 'Star. For the first time since he had been dragged out of the woods, he finally made eye contact with his leader. "Do not describe me as a machine incapable of free will, Cable. I've let myself be used by you without pause or complaint for the last ten months. Circumstances have changed." He added in a lower voice, "I have changed."

Cable glared at him. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"It means that perhaps you'd best place me on limited duty," 'Star said honestly. "At this point in time-"

"No. Absolutely not," Cable barked. "I'm down two members already. I'm not taking you off the active roster."

"Nate-" Domino interjected and got a steel hand thrust in her face, waving her off.

"You like to flaunt how superior to humans you are, Shatterstar. Smarten up and prove it! Tomorrow, X-Force will perform manoeuvres and I'm pairing the two of you up again. You're going to work as teammates, complete your mission, and keep your goddamned hands off of each other. You got that?"

"No promises," Feral purred.

"Understood," 'Star said bleakly.

Cable pointed to the door. "Dismissed. Get out of my sight."

The two teens practically ran for the exit and the minute they opened the door, they were greeted by strident cheers and applause from their teammates along with as many other mutants that word of mouth could reach in the limited time period involved. 'Star and Feral stood immobile for a few seconds before the feline mutant slinked off down the hall, hissing at anybody who came near her. Most of the others moved in to slap 'Star on the back.

"Get away from me! This isn't amusing!" 'Star hollered before James slipped a small brown paper bag into his hand. He looked down at it in confusion. "What the _fekt?_ "

"The guys all chipped in-" James said, interrupted by Boomer who piped up, "Hey! Not just the guys!"

"You might find them handy," Roberto told him, reaching in the bag and holding up a brightly wrapped condom. "We got lubricated, flavoured, glow-in-the-dark-"

"You are all crazy," 'Star mumbled. He didn't embarrass easily (before he came to Earth he didn't even think he was capable of it) but right now his face was flushed all the way up to his hairline. Even the tips of his ears were crimson.

"I've gotta couple of bananas from the kitchen. C'mon 'Star, have we gotta puppet show for ye!" Theresa said, laughing and dragging him down the hall, followed by the team and the rest of the excited students. Miserable and figuring he had to serve some manner of penance for his earlier unprofessional conduct, Shatterstar meekly submitted to the groups hijinks.

Domino was leaning weakly back in her chair and laughing when Cable closed the door again. "It isn't funny, Dom. Shatterstar is one of my best members and all he's been doing lately is seriously screwing up."

"You're putting too much pressure on him. He's one of the youngest on the team and you treat him like an old member of the Six Pack," she said.

He frowned at her. "What are you talking about?"

"I read McCoy's report."

"That was My Eyes Only."

She snorted. "Yeah, like that's ever stopped me. You didn't read it, did you? 'Star's not even eighteen yet, Nate. McCoy thinks he's had such a hard life as a slave on Mojoworld that he's repressed all of his emotions. They're starting to come out now; the good and the bad. You're going to have to start cutting him some slack."

Cable placed his hands on his hips and glowered down at the carpet for a long minute. "Where's that report?" he mumbled.

Smiling, Dom pulled it out of her backpack and handed it to him.


	8. Feral Love

On the next day of outside manoeuvres, for some unknown reason that garnered Shatterstar's eternal gratitude, Cable changed his mind and decided to pair him up with James Proudstar instead of Feral. The big Apache was generally a peaceful soul with a good sense of humor; qualities the alien really didn't grasp very well, but he admired Jimmy's skills as a warrior and didn't protest the pairing. It helped enormously that he wasn't distracted by the close proximity of the larger man's body, which was superb but not to his partiality. 'Star's interest seemed fixated on the female members' forms and varying attributes. Even so, he still thought fondly of what he and Rictor had done the night before the Mexican had left the mansion and wished they could do it again. The solitary act brought about the same satisfying conclusion, but it lacked the intimacy 'Star desperately wanted to experience with another.

"I gotta admit, I'm a little relieved about what happened with you and Feral yesterday," Warpath commented.

"Almost happened," 'Star corrected absently, fingering a leaf that had a barely perceivable crease. "Caliban came through here about two minutes before."

"Yeah, I can smell him," the big man said. "Sucks you got interrupted by Wolverine of all people," he said, snickering. "Man, I wish I could have seen the looks on your faces."

By now, 'Star had learned to take everyone's jabs at the incident as a matter of course. For some unknown reason, it seemed to have made him more acceptable to the team. "I did not know Feral's fur could puff out like that."

James snorted in amusement. "She was pissed that Cable split you two up today. She wants you _bad_ , man."

"I would not object to a coupling," the alien said, fixing James with a sour glare. "Now that you've all seen fit to ensure we do so _safely_."

"Hey, welcome to life on planet Earth. You packing now?"

'Star snapped open one of the pouches in his belt and wordlessly held up a square packet before putting it back. James had to stop what they were doing and struggle with keeping quiet, laughing silently into his hands while his huge shoulders shook. 'Star was beginning to regret the pairing choice. Eventually, the Native American got himself back under control and they went back to tracking the other mutant.

"Me and Roberto were starting to think you might be gay," James suddenly said.

"Gay?"

"Yeah, you know what that means, right?"

"Guys liking guys, not girls," 'Star said, repeating Rictor's interpretation of the orientation. "I see it portrayed often in Earth media. Is it an undesired trait in a teammate?" Perhaps he could learn through James why it bothered Rictor so much.

"Well, _yeah_. We work in some pretty tight corners sometimes. It'd be kind of weird working alongside a guy who'd probably be more interested fucking your ass than saving it."

"I have heard you make similar remarks about Siryn or Boomer's ass. Is it undesirable if that attraction comes from the same gender?"

James pulled him to a stop and looked at him seriously. "Yes, it is. Look, I know it's the twenty-first century and all that. I see them walking hand-in-hand all over the damned place, but one guy screwing another guy is just plain wrong. You get me?"

"No," 'Star said, struggling to keep his voice neutral even though he was finally beginning to grasp just why Julio had felt he needed to leave X-Force. "No, I do not understand why it is wrong."

"It's unnatural, that's why. Guys are meant to make love to women, not to each other. It's the way nature designed us. What fags do to each other is just disgusting. They kiss, rub their dicks together, have sex up the ass. It's gross. You have to take my word on that, 'Star."

"If I had been gay, would you have wanted me off the team?" The alien asked bluntly.

The fact that James didn't answer right away spoke volumes. "It would have made things really awkward," the Apache said vaguely. "Girls don't seem to mind that sort of thing, but us guys ... I dunno, 'Star. I think me and Bobby might have had a problem with it. Probably Rictor too, if he was still here." James broke out into a relieved smile and slapped the stunned teen on the shoulder. "You're not, so it doesn't matter. Right? C'mon, let's win this thing."

'Star was barely listening to him. _This is why Rictor left_ , he was thinking. Rictor had known what his own team would have done if his secret had been revealed. They would have turned on him, berated him, and scorned him for a thing that seemed as grounded in his nature as his specific mutation. Scratch that: X-Force would have turned on them _both_ over an issue 'Star could still not, for the life of him, comprehend as being wrong. Whatever feelings of camaraderie the alien had felt towards his teammates was now fading rapidly and he began emotionally detaching himself just as he had done in the slave pens back on Mojoworld.

Through their rapport, Cable picked up on the dramatic downshift of thoughts coming from the alien and focused on him. _*You all right, 'Star?*_

 _*Affirmative. Now acquiring target*_ the alien responded, settling to the here and now of the mission at hand. His thoughts turned to Cadre as he strategized; a pidgin dialect of several Mojoverse languages that the telepath couldn't begin to decipher. The only thing Cable could make out were lightening-fast flashes of images as the alien worked through different methods of dispatching Caliban.

 _*Warpath? Is Shatterstar alright?*_ Cable asked curiously.

 _*Huh?*_ the big Native American looked down at his partner and saw no visible change in behaviour. _*Yeah, he's fine, Cable. We just had ourselves a great talk. It's all cool*_

* _Alright. Proceed with your objective_ * the telepath said, frowning.

 _*Nate?*_ Domino always had a mind link with her lover and could sense his concern. * _What's going on?*_

* _I don't know. Hopefully nothing_ * he said shortly and concentrated on the team rapport in general and Shatterstar in particular.

Caliban's power was the ability to track other mutants and he immediately sensed it when James emerged from the woods. Between the pair of them they were both fearsomely strong, but Jimmy was always eager to test his skills against another and wanted to rumble. "C'mon, big guy," he said, waggling his fingers.

With a contented bellow, the former-Morlock lumbered towards him, arms spread wide. He took a massive blow directly in the solar plexus and it barely slowed him down. He got an arm lock around the big Apache, lifted him off the ground and began to squeeze. James' legs thrashed in futility as he tried to struggle free. He cast an urgent look around and saw Shatterstar standing off to the side, simply watching them. " _Hey!_ A little help-?"

For just a split second, it looked as if the alien wasn't going to move. Then he leaped into the air and landed beside them. Before Caliban could react, 'Star executed a quick side snap kick, hitting the nerve bundle in the mutant's left thigh as hard as he could. As Caliban went down with a howl of surprised pain, James got an arm lock around his neck, applying just enough pressure to knock him out.

"What was that all about?" James said, straightening and staring over at 'Star.

"I honestly thought you were going to put up more of a fight," the alien said neutrally, adding a rare shrug.

"Just remember whose side you're on. We're supposed to be working as a team."

'Star looked at him dully for a few seconds and then said in a matter-of-fact tone, "Duck."

"Huh?" Warpath turned around just as 'Star threw himself to the ground and received two of Boomer's plasma bombs directly in the face and crotch. James fell to his knees, blinded and gripping his wounded balls. "That was a low fuckin blow!" he bawled.

"Aw shuddup, ya crybaby!" Tabitha said with a grin and dispatched him with another bomb the size of a softball. Warpath was sent flying backwards and when he landed, he was unconscious. His huge form was visibly smouldering from the force of the explosion. "You're next, Shatty-buns," she said, bouncing another bomb in her palm. "Batter up."

'Star glanced at her and then rolled rapidly to his feet, weapons drawn to deflect a bolt from Sunspot rushing in on his blindside. Boomer let fly and the alien tumbled and spun away from the blast, running back into the tree line and using the underbrush as cover against the solar-powered flyer. When Tabitha had no choice but to give chase, 'Star was waiting for her. In close quarter combat, Boomer had no chance and the alien dispatched her in mere seconds.

Sunspot sailed down from the forest canopy and set the brush on fire, cutting off 'Star's escape. "I'm gonna be last man standing this time, buddy. Hate to tell you," Bobby said, his eyes and broad grin were the only visible features in his black solar-powered form.

Shatterstar glared back. Roberto and James had thought he was gay. If that had been so, they would have forced him off the team. It was why Rictor had left. _All because of ignorant humans like these-!_ 'Star bared his teeth and tightened his hands around the hilts of his swords.

Cable was back inside of his head. He had gotten some disturbing flashes of premeditated violence against Roberto through their rapport. Some of them lethal. *' _Star, return back to base. That's an order*_

There was only mute blankness in the Mojoworlder's mind as he just listened to the request instead of automatically following it.

 _*That's an order!*_ Cable repeated.

 _*Dlo ma schamik hez*_ 'Star thought distinctly.

Cable got the distinct impression that was "Go screw yourself" in Cadre. * _Bobby, take him down. Don't play with him. Just do it!*_

 _*I've got this. No problemo*_ Roberto said, walking towards the warrior, making a show of cracking the knuckles of both hands. Everything was quiet in this section of forest except for a cicada buzzing in a tree. "I already got Siryn and Domino. Once I knock you down all I have to do is get Feral and I'm king of the hill."

"You have been cocky ever since your Reignfire possession," 'Star said, backing up for every step the other mutant took forward.

"Maybe, maybe not. I'm one helluva lot stronger, that's for sure."

'Star grunted. "Not any smarter, though."

"Yeah, we'll see about-" Bobby broke off, casting an irritated glance at the trees, wondering why that damn insect was buzzing so loud. Then his eyes widened in recognition and he looked over at 'Star just as the alien was levelling the tips of his swords at him. The weapons were beginning to glow. _"Shit-!_ " he said, raising his hands.

The pair fired simultaneously: Solar-charged blast against vibratory shockwave. The two differently charged energies connected and blew back both teenagers with an explosion of concussive force that levelled all the trees in a twenty foot-wide radius. Roberto was the first to stagger to his feet, still charged with enough solar energy to maintain his empowered form, although 'Star's rarely used mutant power had managed to wound him. He was gripping one shoulder and limping. "Son of a bitch!"

'Star saw him coming and managed to raise himself to one knee, shaking his head to clear it and almost keeling over. He did not know why using the ability drained him so badly, some flaw in his genetic code the Whitecoats had never bothered to remedy, but seeing Sunspot injured from it offered him grim satisfaction. He raised his swords and tried to get to his feet.

There was a terrifying screech that split the air and, for a split second, Roberto thought 'Star was charging up again for a repeat performance. Feral jumped up from a pile of debris, brandishing a length of wood like a war club and nailed Bobby right between the eyes with it. Those few seconds were enough time for 'Star to gather his wits and he attacked Sunspot, punching out with the reinforced hand-guards of his swords and kicking at select nerve bundles. Feral continued to bludgeon away at him with the wooden club.

"No fair teaming up!" Bobby protested.

"Go cryin to Cable, rich boy," Feral snarled, slamming her weapon down on her teammate's toes.

"Where's that strength now, _vehjka_?" 'Star asked him as they battled.

Between the pair of them, they managed to force Roberto back into the tree line where he couldn't absorb any more solar energy. He tried to take to the air to buy some time to recoup and Feral leaped onto his back, claws and teeth trying to get through his solar shielding. Weighed down, injured, and quickly losing energy, a superhuman kick to the jaw from 'Star took him out of the fight. Roberto collapsed to the ground and lost his hold on his empowered form when he blacked out.

Breathing heavily, 'Star glared at his other teammate. "I may be weakened, but you can be assured I can still fight," he said in a rough voice.

Feral only laughed and hunkered down in the dirt, licking the back of her hand where Bobby had burned her. "Thought I told you yesterday, Shatty, games are for kids."

"I remember you saying that," the alien said, getting up out of his defensive posture and returning his swords into the scabbards strapped to his back. He took two wandering steps and his legs suddenly gave out, pitching him backwards to the ground.

"Hah! My furry orange _ass_ you can fight," she giggled.

"I overdid it dispatching Roberto," he admitted, sitting up with his head between his knees, waiting for his surroundings to stop spinning. Cable was back in his head demanding to know what was going on. 'Star ignored him and reined down on his mind, deliberately shutting him out.

"S'not like you to use your power during piddly-ass training sessions like this, Shatty."

"I was angry at him. Him and James both."

"Yeah? What'd they-"

 _*Feral, status report*_ Cable barked into the woman's mind. The gray-haired old bastard had just about the worst timing in Feral's opinion but she figured that maybe she could use it to her advantage this time.

_*Shatty and Spot took each other out. Guess that makes me the winner*_

_*I guess it does. Congratulations*_ he said with a marked lack of enthusiasm. _*I can't reach either of them. Are they unconscious? I'll come in and assist*_

 _*Beats me. I'm not anywhere near em. I'm on my way back home*_ she lied, watching 'Star as he collected his bearings. * _If they're out for the count, that's their problem. You should be able to find 'em no prob, though. They took out a whole section of forest*_

* _Cerebro's giving me coordinates now. I'm coming in*_

 _*That means playtime's over. I want my head back now. Free and clear_ *

 _*Understood*_ Cable said, adding _*Good work*_ before he removed her from the training rapport.

Feral smirked and trotted over to 'Star and crouched down beside him. The color had returned to his face and he was looking more alert. His healing factor was kicking in, she noted with relief. "We gotta be makin tracks, Shatty-buns. Cable's on his way and probably the others, too."

He frowned at her. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere private. We've got unfinished business." Her prehensile tail immediately curled around his thigh and squeezed.

At the contact, the confusion cleared from his light blue eyes. "Yes, you're right," he murmured, running a hand down her smooth, furred back. He was attracted to her; he could feel his body responding to her proximity already. All he cared about right now was completing the act Wolverine had interrupted yesterday.

Feral arched her back against his touch and ran her tongue suggestively along her top lip. "I found a place that should do the trick."

He got back to his feet. "Lead the way."

"We'd best set down a few false trails just in case James joins the search. You up for that?"

He flashed her one of his rare sincere smiles. It made him look more approachable and undeniably handsome. "Right now, I'm up for just about anything."

"We're gonna have fun, 'Star. I'll make sure of that," she said, glancing at him over his shoulder as they ran away from the battle site.

"I'm looking forward to it." He was speaking honestly. Feral seemed to know what she was doing and he was an earnest student if the subject was right. These were lessons he desperately wanted to know. "So tell me, which condom would you prefer? Lubricated, flavoured, or glow-in-the-dark?"

She laughed. "I dunno, but you can be damned sure I plan on takin 'em _all_ for a test drive before we're done."

Stumbling in surprise, he almost face-planted in the dirt before managing to recover with a modicum of his dignity still intact. They split up, crossed paths, and laid down a nonsensical batch of trails before taking to the trees and travelling that way. The pair were equally matched in agility and speed, leaping and swinging from branch to branch purely on instinct and reckless abandon. For that span of time, they weren't mutants, or soldiers, or students; they were just two horny teenagers out on their own looking for a place to get laid. It was probably as close to "normal" as they would ever get.

Feral finally dropped to the ground and pushed aside some brush to expose a hatch. Shatterstar landed beside her and helped her haul it open. They peered down into a dark shaft that had a ladder fastened to the side. "What is this?" he asked.

"Whole estate has a warren of bunkers," Feral told him, climbing inside. "Escape tunnels if the mansion's ever raided. It's how I got inside the mansion the first time we met."

"Ingenious," 'Star said, following her and then pausing to pull the hatch closed, locking it and sealing them in darkness. Their eyes adjusted quickly to the gloom and they climbed all the way down. Their feet must have tripped a pressure plate set in the floor and a pair of emergency lights winked on, revealing an antechamber that was probably meant as some sort of rallying point. There was a locked cabinet on the wall, a couple of chairs, and a dusty futon set against the wall. The two looked at one another and grinned. Both had endured a solitary, barren existence before X-Force and this place was like discovering a presidential suite.

"I think we've hit the mother lode," Feral said, wasting no time hauling the futon away from the wall, setting the mattress down into a horizontal position. Then she slipped quickly out of her clothes. 'Star watched her naked, athletic body as she moved and stood riveted in place, utterly entranced. "Hey! Earth to 'Star!" she said, waving a hand in front of his face.

"I've never seen a naked woman before," he said numbly. "It's not the same as a vid or television. It's ... you're stunning."

She blinked in surprise. "No guy's ever said that to me before. The ones I hook up with just want to get their freak on and screw a mutie."

"I'm coming to the conclusion that the majority of Earth males are idiots," he said, thinking of James and Roberto. As far as he was concerned, Cable was also on that list. The only one who still had his respect anymore was Rictor, and he was over two thousand miles away. He pined for his friend, wished he was here right now so they could continue their unique pairing. James' little speech had given him a few things to think about, so in Rictor's absence, perhaps Feral would provide some much needed instruction. She certainly seemed to know what she was doing. He was grateful for that and let her take the lead.

"Amen to that," she whispered, grabbing his hand and placing it against her left breast. He could feel her heartbeat beneath the soft pelt, excited and racing just as his was. His thumb rubbed over the nipple and the tiny nub of pink flesh immediately puckered and rose in response.

They kissed, mouths open and tongues mingling. Feral nipped at his bottom lip, adding the distinctive taste of copper to the union and he responded by gently catching her tongue between his teeth. Her response was a low, excited growl. Her claws racked his back and sides, snaring in the material of his uniform. He pulled off the top of his costume and she battened onto the nipple of his right pec like a leech. When she bit down on it, he jerked back in surprise.

"Too much?" she asked, smirking up at him. Her normally slitted eyes were dilated and huge in her finely-boned face.

"Perfect," he said, picking her effortlessly off the ground and depositing her on the futon. He kicked off his boots, unfastened his belt, and pulled down the pants of his uniform, removing the cup. His erection jutted up from its base of copper curls, swollen and ruddy with desire.

"God _damn_ I love that dick," she said, grabbing it with one impatient hand and licking the smooth helmet with her rough tongue. She pulled it eagerly into her mouth, taking it as deep as she could go, and raked her nails lightly against the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. She pulled away and nuzzled it, letting the fur on her face add some teasing friction. "You remember where it goes?"

All 'Star was fixated on were the overwhelming sensations happening below his waist. He had to actively concentrate just to get the words out. "I'm inexperienced, not stupid."

"Just checking," she chuckled, rolling over and drawing her ass into the air. Her tail reached back and brushed across his washboard stomach. "I've been waiting a long time for this, Shatty. Don't let me down."

"Just a minute," he said, reaching for his belt and rummaging through one of the pockets.

When she saw what he was doing, she dropped her face into the mattress and cursed bitterly. "For Christ's sake, 'Star. I'm waiting!"

"You did not have to endure an hour of ridicule among teammates being shown how these go on bananas _or_ receive the lecture from Domino about safe sex, pregnancy, and diseases," he said, opening a packet and carefully slipping the condom over his erection. "We will do this right or not at all."

"You really know how to set the mood," she grumbled.

"I can go somewhere else and masturbate if you don't-"

"Shut up and fuck me!" she screeched.

"Bossy," he commented and had to betray a smile. "I do like that about you, Maria." He stepped up behind her and brushed her cleft with inquiring fingers. She was wet and ready and he found where he needed to go with little effort. He positioned the head of his cock into the entrance of her pussy and slid it in, sinking it deep.

Of the two, it's hard to say who was the loudest as they coupled. Feral was always vocal and in the height of sexual excitement she sounded like some wildcat in heat, shrieking and snarling her encouragement. She gave voice to her pleasure time and time again. 'Star lapsed to Cadre as he surrendered to their frenzied lovemaking, shouting sharply consonantal words and bellowing when the sensations became too much to bear.

Between his inhuman stamina and her insatiable desire, they made short work of the condoms he brought. By the end of it, their nude bodies were lying together on the futon in an exhausted, tangled heap, barely able to move.

"That concludes today's lesson," Feral croaked, too spent to even flick her tail. When she looked over, she saw that 'Star had already fallen asleep. It looked like a very good idea and she did the same, purring contentedly.


	9. Disheartened

"I don't fucking believe it," Cable said in a stunned voice as he stared at the image displayed in high definition on one of the mansion's security monitors.

"It was a low level breach," Cyclops offered by way of apology. "Not something that would have tripped Cerebro's alarms. I'm sorry for not telling you sooner."

"How would you have known when even I didn't have a clue?" Cable said, mentally calling off the search party going on in the woods. Shatterstar had been missing for the last two hours and the X-Force leader had feared that the warrior might have been injured from his fight with Roberto, knowing how badly he reacted to using his mutant ability. It wasn't until Cable realized that Feral was also missing that he began to piece things together. A check of the mansion security systems revealed that a sensor had been tripped in one of the compound escape hatches. Activating one of the old recessed camera monitors showed the two teenagers screwing madly on the futon, their clothes scattered all around them.

Cyclops watched the large mutant straighten, his face tightening with anger as he turned to walk away. "What are you going to do?"

"What do you think? I'm going to break up their little party."

"Why?"

Cable shot him a perplexed glance. "Where do I start? Disobeying orders, attacking teammates, lying, insubordination-"

"Nathan," Scott sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose beneath the heavy ruby-quartz glasses he had to wear. Talking to the other man was always difficult, perplexing family history aside, and he had to visibly compose his thoughts before proceeding. "Take note that I'm just speaking here as the leader of a team of my own."

"Continue," Cable said in a guarded tone, crossing his arms.

"You have to ease back a little. You've been here for a week and I've watched you run your team through manoeuvres two times a day every day. These aren't military conscripts or seasoned soldiers. They're young adults who joined your team voluntarily because they had nowhere to go. You've ridden them hard for ten months and they've clearly had enough."

"What's Sam been telling you?"

"Enough. You have several severely emotionally-troubled people on your team. Shatterstar is one. Feral is another. Right now they seem to have found some comfort in each other. Why do you want to tell them that it's wrong?"

 _Because they pissed me off and made me look like an idiot,_ came to Cable's mind but he didn't say it out loud. He didn't dare because it sounded petty and childish. He stared grudgingly back at the other man but the resentment was fading from his grizzled features. "I didn't want to lose Sam. I never had Rictor's trust. I have tenuous control over Feral at the best of times and now Shatterstar is becoming disobedient. My team is breaking apart and I don't know what to do."

"I want to feel for you Nathan, but all I hear you saying are the words 'lose' and 'control' and 'disobedient' as if those kids are your property. They're free spirits, more so than most, and you have to respect that. Back off, let them recoup, let them be young, even if it's just for a couple of hours."

"I give them plenty of downtime, Scott. Hell, I rented an island resort for a week so they could have a vacation-"

"But you were there with them, right?"

"Of course."

"You know what I and the others keep hearing? That their base in Camp Verde was their favorite. It was a rathole that they built up themselves while you were missing and, from the sounds of things, they did one hell of a job."

"They did," Cable admitted. The abandoned Apache Reserve had been little more than a graveyard before the remains of his orbital station had been deliberately crash-landed there. The team had salvaged the machinery, adding some alien tech that Lila Cheney had provided, and cobbled the mess together into serviceable base that would have been the envy of most sponsored super-hero groups. X-Force lived there together, even operated a few missions of their own, and seemed in general harmony until Cable had come back. It all seemed to fall to pieces after that.

"They don't need you to telepathically tell them what to do," Scott said, as if catching the other man's train of thought. "They're way too independent for that now. They need a leader who will guide them. They need a mentor and friend. The time for lying and manipulating is over."

The two matched gazes for a long, tension-filled minute before Cable dropped his eyes first. He nodded slowly and turned to leave.

"Nathan, you did good. You kept them alive," Scott felt prompted to say. "Now, you just need to be better."

Cable paused long enough to listen but he made no comment. He gave an acknowledging nod and walked slowly away. With a troubled heart, Scott let him go. He knew the trials and tribulations associated with leadership and the clash of temperaments and attitudes that mantle incited. He had his own scars to bear from when his views had clashed with others. Sometimes he had been wrong, most times he had been right, and the man who was his son from the future had to discover what worked for him best.

* * *

When Shatterstar snapped awake he was disoriented at first, unaccustomed to the dimly lit surroundings, and cold. It was the silence that unnerved him the most, clear indication that he was not back on his home planet. No one ever escaped watching the vids, or being on one. He remembered where he was and sat up, realizing he was alone and had been for at least a few hours. Feral's scent was all over him but its potency had faded. She had gotten what she wanted and left. He did not fault her for it; she was only behaving true to her nature, but he would be lying if he didn't feel disheartened by the abandonment. It made him feel like he was back in the Mojoverse again; enduring the tactile violation from the overly-curious Spineless Ones and having to act grateful for their interest.

He had not felt like this after the night he and Julio spent together.

Shelving his feelings with difficulty, he got dressed and cleaned the room, moving the futon back against the wall and climbed up the ladder to crawl out of the hatch. He was astonished to see that it was dark now, meaning that he had been asleep for most of the afternoon. Using his mutant power had weakened him, his frenzied lovemaking with Feral had drained the last of his reserves. He felt tired, raw, and emotionally spent. Leaning his head back, he relished the quiet for a change, staring up at constellations he did not recognize. He inhaled the night air and let it out as a sigh. "How long have you been waiting there, Cable?" he murmured, turning around.

A shadow moved and disengaged itself from the tree it had been leaning against. Cable stepped into view, his cybernetic right eye glowing in the darkness. "For awhile."

"You have come to dispense reprisal for my insubordination," 'Star said without surprise.

Cable shook his head. "No, Gaveedra, I'm not here for that."

"No?"

"I came to apologize."

If 'Star had been unsettled by the rare use of his first name, he was even more bothered by his leader's odd approach to discipline. He stared at the other man curiously, ready to reach for his swords if necessary, but chose to hear him out, remaining silent. Waiting.

"I made a promise to you. Ten-and-a-half months ago you came here for help, and in exchange for you joining X-Force I promised to assist you with the rebellion on your world." Cable paused, expecting some sort of acknowledgment and received only more of that brooding silence. He didn't like that. So much of the alien's conduct had changed in such a short period of time that he wasn't sure what to expect anymore. "I've lapsed in my promise, I admit that. To be honest, I ... Well, I forgot. It's been such a crazy year; it got put on the back burner, but I-"

"You're lying."

Cable looked at him in surprise. "What?"

"' _In return for his services in our fighting unit, I have promised him that we will aid his cause. I just never told him when. For now, I need Shatterstar more than his homeworld needs us'_ ," 'Star suddenly said in an oddly mechanical manner, as if he were reading the words out of thin air. "Do you remember that passage, Cable?"

The silver-haired mutant looked aghast. "That-that was from my private file records."

"I found them when we crashed Graymalkin at Camp Verde. I found all of your personal notes and the ones I did not, Prosh helped me learn the rest. You _never_ intended to help me."

"Now, that's absolutely not true. I just- It was imperative that X-Force become a cohesive fighting unit first and then we-"

"You lied to me, _vehjka_ ," the alien said, glowering at him. His tattooed left eye was glowing fiercely now, almost as brightly as Cable's, and that only happened when he was very, _very_ angry.

The pair observed each other for a long moment. Of the two, Cable backed off first, speaking honestly, "I'll make it up to you."

"It's too late."

"I've been talking with Xavier and he agrees that the X-Men can-"

"You are not listening. It is too late."

Cable looked at him in confusion. "I don't understand."

"The rebellion was nearing its desperate end when the Cadre sent me back to Earth," 'Star explained. "They had one month of resources left. Perhaps two, before all was lost and Mojo's Imperial Protectorate prevailed. That was my time limit to bring back reinforcements. If the Cadre had succeeded on their own, they would have brought me back by now. The fact that I'm still here says it all: I failed my mission. The rebellion was defeated. The Alliance is dead. My comrades, my brethren-"

Cable looked down at the ground, rubbing the back of his neck in a fretful gesture.

"-dead," the alien finished.

"'Star, I-I don't know what to say-"

"The fault is not all yours, Cable," 'Star said, his voice surprisingly calm. "I let myself be distracted by the trappings of this world and by my warrior's honor to serve you. By the time I suspected you were not true to your word, I was fully committed to X-Force. I could not abandon one alliance to go help another. I could have reminded you, demanded that you fulfil your promise. I did not. When all is said and done, my failure to the Cadre falls on me and me alone."

The lack of emotion to his words troubled Cable more than a little. Maybe Shatterstar had already reconciled himself to his fate and failure, maybe he was just falling back on his ability to keep his emotions under wraps. Cable suspected the latter. "We're dealing with time travel here. We can go back before things ever fell to pieces-"

"Go back how?"

Cable didn't have an answer.

"You know as well as I do that there are only certain time corridors available for safe transport. I return too early, I become a paradox that will jeopardize the time line further. Arrive too late ... it is the same as if I do not go back at all. Returning to the precise moment that was necessary to bring back Earth reinforcements is forever lost to me. It is impossible to set things right."

"I'm physical proof that where time travel is concerned _nothing_ is impossible."

"You make that boast as a human!" 'Star snapped at him. "We are not talking about simple linear displacement that follows an earth timeline. I have the unique distinction of being not just from another world, but also from another dimension one hundred years in the future! The only technology capable of breaching all three barriers is what sent me here."

The look on Cable's face was only desperation. "I made a promise and I intend to-"

" _Fekt._ Our conversation is done," 'Star said in a weary, dismissive tone, turning around and heading back to the mansion. It was pitch black in these woods but he walked around trees and heavy brush with deceptive ease, picking his way through the undergrowth using the starlight and his own sense of direction. He'd had to learn those covert skills from senior members of the Cadre who were used to operating in darkness and silence. When he had first joined them, he had been scared of the dark; having been exposed to spotlights, camera lights, and the constant glow of vid screens all of his life. Darkness was unnatural, dangerous, threatening, and he had been afraid. It had taken months among them to shake that fear, to become as deadly in the light as without. Their tutelage hadn't been out of friendship, or compassion. The rebels had needed a weapon and Shatterstar had been highly skilled and lethal, a flesh-construct possessing little emotion. They pointed him in the direction they needed him to go and he reacted like a compact, crazed missile of destruction, never questioning orders. The decision to send him back to Earth hadn't been made with his consent; he had simply gone along with it. Armed with what he knew now, he never would have agreed to the mission. Now he was stranded on this miserable, confusing world.

... But he _could_ go back to the Mojoverse. He _could_ return to his time. He had lied to Cable about that. All he had to do was speak _her_ name and the Time Dancer would appear and return him directly to Mojo V. It was a mystical talent she possessed to know when her name was invoked; a binding spell put on all Mojoverse bio-constructs in order to keep them in check if they strayed. Allied with the X-Men, he had been prepared to utter the summons, knowing of their legendary experience and battle record against both her and the tyrant. Cable and X-Force had been an unknown he could not risk endangering. Now, knowing them as well as he did, he refused to consider the strategy. They would not win against Mojo's magic and he would not be responsible for failing another alliance when he had failed the Cadre already. Having the assistance of the X-Men, ten months too late, would accomplish _nothing_.

That didn't mean he couldn't call her for himself. If he chose that route, he knew that he would not be killed; he provided far too much entertainment value to warrant cancellation. Instead, Mojo would probably wipe his mind, alter his design, upgrade his skill set, and return him to the slave pens. 'Star would go back to being a puppet for the ruthless media. He wouldn't have to care about people, he wouldn't be distracted by sex, or worry about anything but performing for the next big primetime spectacle.

That last part had a certain ... appeal, given recent events, but he would not succumb to that desperate fate. He would kill himself before it went that far, or got that bad. He had sworn the pledge like all of his Cadre Alliance brethren: Freedom or death. But, just like his namesake, Shatterstar's light was fading because his extended exposure to Earth was unravelling him piece by piece, and he didn't know how to stop it.

He reached the edge of the tree line and saw the lights of the mansion. Students were out in the yard running back and forth, playing, laughing. They were all mutants and they were united and safe among their own kind. A race of people he would never belong to. They were free, never knowing the despair of slavery or starvation of survival. They would never know the shame associated with the failure of saving their race. They would never know what it was like to be so utterly alone.

 _Za's Vid,_ he missed Julio so much ...

A hand fell on his shoulder and he jerked in surprise, looking up. He had been so self-absorbed in his thoughts that he'd forgotten all about Cable. The huge mutant looked down at him, noticing the faint tracks of tears on the young warrior's face barely discernable in the low light. He picked his words carefully when he said, "Yesterday, you asked to be placed on limited duty. Do you still want that?"

"It would be for the best."

"Consider it done."

'Star nodded but did not thank him. He resented the huge man far too much to be grateful. When he had been sent to Earth, he had materialized in the mansion Danger Room and the first few moments of consciousness had been spent in battle against complete strangers. He did not know Nathan Summers or any of the New Mutants; his limited study material had been focused exclusively on the X-Men. Cable discovering him instead had ruined _everything_.

They parted without words as 'Star gave the yard a wide berth, looking for another point of entry where he might pass by unnoticed. Cable watched that shunned behaviour but he didn't comment on it. He really didn't know what he could possibly say.

"Was that Shatterstar?" James asked when Cable joined the gathering taking place on the back yard veranda. One of the students was having a birthday party and Nightcrawler was cooking hamburgers and hotdogs on the large barbeque, juggling skillets and forks like the circus performer he'd once been. Colossus was rearranging picnic tables. Kitty Pryde and her pet dragon Lockheed were entertaining some eager onlookers. All members of the teams currently housed under the roof were in attendance; new students, X-Men, X-Force, some exclusive human friends. It was a grand, raucous display in a place that saw few opportunities for celebration, so everyone wanted to take part. Even Wolverine could be spotted leaning against a far wall and drinking a beer.

"Yeah," Cable said, in answer to the Apache's question. 'Star had reached the side of the mansion where his quarters lied and scaled the stone wall like a spider, easily climbing in through the third-floor window. The lights clicked on and his shadow briefly came into view before he drew the curtains closed. "Today's manoeuvres took a lot out of him. He's going to be taking a break from the team for a while."

"Really? He seemed all right to me while we were partnered up. Maybe a little quieter than usual, if that's possible." The young man said, sipping from a can of Mountain Dew. "Must have been from that battle with Sunspot. Man, Bobby's still bitching about it."

Nodding absently, Cable suddenly remembered something from that afternoon and focused all of his attention on the young mutant. "During today's training session, you mentioned that you and 'Star had a talk. What was it about?"

"I was just kidding around with him about Feral, that's all."

"Uh _huh_. Anything else?"

The Native American began looking a little uneasy. "Why? Did he say something?"

"You know 'Star better than that. He keeps everything to himself. What else did you two talk about, James?"

"Look, he was cool with it, okay? I just told him that I was glad he wasn't-" Jimmy swallowed and tried to pass it off with a shrug as he coughed out, "... _gay_."

Cable blinked and gave his head a little shake, as if he couldn't believe his hearing. "What?"

"It was just something Bobby and I were talking about for awhile. Until that funny thing with Feral yesterday, 'Star never seemed to pay any attention to her. Hell, he even shot down Theresa once. He used to go out clubbing with Rictor all the time and always came home early. We were starting to wonder if he was, y'know, _funny_ like that. That's all."

Struggling with his temper, Cable asked in a level voice, "How did 'Star respond to the conversation?"

"He was curious like he always is about things he doesn't really understand. He knew a little about fags from watching the TV, but I set him straight on some things."

"Like what?"

"That it's gross. That we don't need them on the team, and we don't Cable," James said in a firm voice, even though his face had reddened a bit. "We're a tight unit and we already corner the market on weird. The last thing we need is some queer screwing up the team dynamic."

"And right after that little ... chat you fought Caliban?"

"Yep."

"Go back to the party, James," Cable said shortly, fixing him with a disproving glare, one that the Apache recognized with dread. He took a wandering step back, his face confused and a little uneasy, but didn't question his good fortune and quickly trotted off.

Cable walked away in the opposite direction, returning to the darkness of the yard where he could mull over what he'd learned. It was after that "gay" talk that he'd sensed 'Star mentally shutting down, providing minimal support to James and deliberately attacking Roberto. After that, he had sought comfort from Feral, of all people. Cable worked his way backwards, through all of the actions of the past week and of Shatterstar's erratic behaviour. He quickly came to the precise moment that had started the deterioration: When Rictor had announced he was quitting the team.

"Oh, god damn it," Cable growled, running a heavy hand through his silver hair and stood looking up at the stars with his hands on his hips. At that moment, he finally understood _everything_.


	10. Runaway

Theresa Cassidy knew she had a drinking problem. So did her team. The rest of the household had been blissfully ignorant of that fact until she got abysmally shitfaced at the birthday party and began making out with James in full view of everyone. The big Native thought that it was his dream come true, but eventually realized the circumstances were all wrong. He finally understood (or thought he did) why Shatterstar had rebuffed her sloppy seduction attempt at Camp Verde. Jimmy wanted Theresa but not like _this_ , and tried to pry the Irish woman off of him as delicately as possible. Siryn didn't take the rejection well. She threw her beer bottle into the air and shattered it with a concentrated scream, showering some of the partying mutants in brown glass. The music came to sudden stop, conversation ceased, and all eyes were trained on her as she burst into tears. Domino came up beside her and led her into the kitchen and the party continued out on the backyard veranda as if interruptions of that nature took place all of the time. Sadly, that was true.

Sitting at the kitchen table, Domino gave the young woman a mug of strong coffee and regarded her silently for a long moment, watching the red-haired woman struggle to pull herself together. "Theresa, this has gone on long enough."

"Och, ah know, ah know," she muttered into her cup, her accent appreciably thick.

"I'm serious. We can't have a deputy leader with a substance abuse problem. You need to get some treatment for this."

"Ah dinna want thee respons'bility!" she shouted. "'Tis tew much pressure. Shatterstar has thee training. Let 'im do it."

"Shatterstar has voluntarily withdrawn from X-Force," Domino told her, keeping her voice neutral. She had been enjoying the party until Cable had confided in her about his conversations with the Mojoworlder and James Proudstar and that quickly put the brakes on any further revelry. She had a maternal attachment to the group and didn't like to see any of the young members suffer needlessly. By accident or design, Shatterstar had managed to slip under her radar until it had proven too late to help him. She resolved she wasn't going to make the same mistake with Siryn.

Theresa looked at the other woman in shock. "Since when?"

"Since tonight. He's struggling with some personal issues that he needs to work through. So do you."

The Irish woman took her face in her hands and began to cry. "The team's fallin apart," she said miserably. "First Sam, then Rictor, now 'Star. Ah'm a mess, Dom. Ah dinna know what t'do!"

Domino grabbed one of her hands and squeezed it. "It's going to be all right. We lead a stressful life and these kind of things happen. You're not alone. Tonight, you're going to get a good night's sleep and tomorrow I want you to go into town and start going to AA."

Theresa groaned and dropped her head to the table. " _Och!_ Ah hate those places. 'Hullo, ah'm Theresa, and ah'm an alcoholic'. God, 'tis so humiliating."

"No more so than getting drunk and making an ass of yourself in front of everybody. I'm giving you the opportunity to take responsibility for this, Terry. If you don't, you'll end up being lectured by Professor Xavier and I know that you don't want that."

"No!"

"We're X-Force. We take care of our own," Domino said, helping her friend upstairs to her room. Even as she said the words she had to wonder if that was even true anymore. Their founding members were fracturing and falling apart and tonight Cable had made her aware of an issue neither had ever thought to address. Never thought they'd have to. Among a team of racial minorities, mutants, and even non-humans, the subject of sexuality had never been brought up in conversation once. It just went to show how secretive teenagers could be on issues that dealt with them personally. Even worse, neither leader knew how to even broach the topic without potentially blowing it all out of proportion. At this point they were dealing with suspicions and conjecture, although the underlying theme of ignorance was definitely going to have to be addressed somehow. It was moments like these that Cable was left genuinely floundering. Domino didn't know how she could help. Neither of them had ever had what could be called a normal childhood.

Theresa was unaware of what was going on within her team; she had enough problems of her own. She spent the night in a sludgy, inebriated slumber and woke up with a hangover. She spent the morning alternating between her bed and bent over the toilet. Cable had cancelled manoeuvres for the day, letting the team have some free time off. By all rights, Theresa should have felt relieved but all she could do is brood over Domino's cautions. Last night's conversation had the hazy, half-remembered snatches of dialogue all drunks called memory, but Theresa remembered the basics: It was time to straighten up and fly right.

She showered and dressed and even managed to choke down some dry toast to settle her stomach. After that she logged onto a computer terminal and looked up AA meeting locations. The local town of Salem's Center had a chapter but they weren't meeting until tomorrow and Theresa could already feel the need for hair of the dog. She decided to go into New York City. At least there she could pick and choose where she wanted to go, and getting out of the mansion for the day sounded very appealing.

Domino and Cable were in a meeting with Xavier and Cyclops. Theresa very delicately plucked at the strands of the team's psi-link and Cable responded immediately. _*What is it, Theresa?*_

 _*I'm heading into the city for the day. I have a-a-*_ Red-faced and embarrassed, she surged on ahead. _*I'm going to a meeting.*_

There was no indication of surprise or condemnation, just: _*Do you need company?*_

 _*No sir, but thank you_ * she said and mentally withdrew, heartened by the non-judgemental tone of her leader's thoughts. Cable could be a mean son of a bitch when he wanted to be, but he had his rare moments where he could be remarkably kind and this was apparently one of them.

Theresa signed out one of the mansion's many available cars and drove the back roads of Manchester County. The city was over an hour away and she took advantage of the solitude and listened to the radio. She hummed along to some familiar tunes but was careful not to sing. She had a bad habit of hitting odd notes with her mutant-altered vocal cords and tended to disable sensitive electronics. Being stranded on this deserted back country road with a dead car would not help her frame of mind. She was in no hurry, cruising along a little bit below the speed limit. When she came around a bend there was someone ahead of her walking along the side of the road and she easily swerved around the individual, glancing in the rear view mirror as she drove past. She saw that shocking head of red hair, even brighter than hers, and slammed down on the brake pedal in surprise.

Shatterstar watched the vehicle pull to a screeching stop on the road and backed up a step, ready to defend himself. He watched the TV religiously and was aware that humans often met horrific ends on lonely roads like these. Usually it happened at night under a full moon in fog-laden areas, but he supposed anything was possible on this crazy world. He had his swords in the duffle bag that was slung over his shoulder and dropped the bag to the ground, pulling down the zipper and reaching inside. He grasped the hilts but did not pull them out into view. Not yet.

The car door on the driver's side opened and a young woman leaned out. "Shatterstar? What're ye doing all the way out here?" Theresa called over to him.

He grabbed his bag and straightened, walking over to the car. "Hello Siyrn."

"I asked ye a question," she said, eyeing him critically. The alien was wearing bluejeans and a dark jacket over his shirt, his long hair tucked inside the coat. If it wasn't for that black tattoo marring his handsome features he could almost pass for normal.

"I'm just out for a walk."

"Yuir over twenty klicks from the mansion, boyo. Looks to me like yuir running away."

'Star didn't answer.

Theresa sighed. "I'm heading into the city. Can I give ye a drive?"

"You're not going to take me back to the mansion?"

"No."

He nodded and opened the passenger side door, settling into the seat and depositing the bag between his feet. "Thank you," he said when she resumed her drive.

"Fer what? Helping ye or not snitching on ye?"

"Both."

She sighed. "Domino told me last night that yuir having some problems and had withdrawn from the team. If ye need to get away for awhile to clear yuir head, who am I to say ye can't? It surprises me that ye didn't say goodbye, that's all."

"I told Cable and Domino. Tabitha left this morning to go visit her father in Pennsylvania. I looked for Feral but could not find her. I am not close to Caliban," 'Star said, watching the road.

"What about James and Roberto? What about _me?_ " she said, sparing him a hurt glance.

"I am finding it difficult dealing with James and Roberto."

"Since when?"

Shatterstar lapsed into his characteristic silence and changed the subject. "I didn't say good-bye to you because I figured you were still angry at me."

"Fer what?!" she cried indignantly.

"For refusing your advances at Camp Verde. I wasn't very considerate about your particular circumstances that day and rebuffed you cruelly. I'm sorry, Theresa."

"Ye don't have anything to apologize about," she said, her freckled cheeks burning with the memory of that awful day. "I had no right to throw myself at ye like that. I'm the deputy leader, fer crying out loud. 'Sides, that happened months ago."

"The fact that you never brought it up made me believe you were holding onto a grudge. Your conduct around me changed after that."

Theresa wasn't aware that she had behaved any differently but she'd be lying to them both if she said that she hadn't felt embarrassed for her poor conduct on that day. 'Star was highly intuitive and trained to read minute body language for potential weaknesses. It was very possible he was picking up on some tension coming from her whenever they were close to each other and misinterpreting it as condemnation. "I might have been angry with ye that day, but it was all me fault. I ... I have a drinking problem, 'Star. In fact, that's why I'm going into the city today; to get some help for it. What I did to ye in Camp Verde, I tried it again with Jimmy last night."

"I would have thought James receptive to such behaviour," 'Star muttered.

"He was just being a gentleman. Much like ye were on that day."

The alien shook his head. "My actions had nothing to do with chivalry. Your timing was simply all wrong."

"What do ye mean by that?"

"It means that if you had tried that action with me again, perhaps even last night, I would not have turned you down."

It was just as well they were on a relatively straight stretch of road because Theresa would have probably missed the turn completely. She was numb with shock at the other young man's casual admission. "What're ye saying, 'Star? That-that yuir ..." she nervously cleared her throat. "Are ye attracted to me?"

"You, Tabitha, Domino, Maria, Storm, Amara, Pryde, Grey, Psylocke, X'ian, Skids, even Rahne, although she reeks of canine," 'Star said, resting his elbow against the armrest of the door and rubbing his forehead. "I'm attracted to all of you. It's maddening. It's why I had to get out of the mansion."

"What brought this on?"

"I believe I've reached a state of sexual maturity that was purposely delayed in my genetic make-up to make me more competent as a warrior. On my home world, I would have bred with my genetic bond-mate by now. Here on earth ..." he fell into troubled silence.

Listening to the frank explanation, Theresa had to press a hand to her mouth to try and hide her amusement. "Are ye telling me yuir _horny_?"

He actually flushed a little, keeping his eyes carefully trained forwards. "I suppose that's an apt interpretation as any."

She tried to smother her amusement and failed at it miserably, laughing out loud. To his credit, 'Star did not fault her for it. If this wasn't such a personal humiliation, he probably would have found the situation as amusing as she did. "Wow. In light of that, I'm glad we gave ye those condoms when we did."

"I suppose I will have to purchase some more," he realized with a sigh. "Are they readily available or are they something I have to Paypal on the eBay?"

"'Star, we gave you a bunch the other day."

"Yes, I know you did."

"Did ye leave 'em at the mansion?"

"No, I used them all."

She was back to staring at him again. _"What?!"_

"As clarification, Maria and I used them."

"When?"

"Yesterday. After our training session."

"Ye mean when Cable thought ye were missing? He had all of us searching the woods for ye. Are ye saying you and Feral were off doing ... that?"

"Yes. I apologize for the deception but," he betrayed a rare smirk. "I do not regret it."

Theresa lapsed into wondering silence. Cable had called them off the search after a couple of hours but, come to think of it, Shatterstar and Feral had been missing for the rest of the day. "Holy Mother of Mary. We gave ye at least a dozen of the bloody things!"

"Some of them fell victim to my strength or Maria's claws. They are fragile devices. One got eaten." At Theresa's questioning stare, he gave his head a bewildered shake. "I don't think she was used to them either."

That was it. Theresa laughed so hard that she would have probably driven them into another car if the back roads were heavy with traffic. Or a tree. 'Star reached over and guided the steering wheel until she had herself back under control. "Och! You naughty boy!" she chuckled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

"That's what she said-"

" _Agh!_ Okay, enough. I don't need to know specifics. Ye were careful and had fun. That's all that really matters," she said, smiling. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," he said dully. Truth be told, he could have happily gone on with his life without having to entertain this particular diversion. He had a feeling it was going to add major complications he could do without.

"What are yuir plans in New York?"

"I honestly haven't put much thought into it. It seemed as good a place to go as any. The fabled City of New York seems to feature predominately in the majority of sitcom vids and movies."

"Just remember that what ye see on the TV is all make-belief pretend stuff."

"And the Fantastic Four? The Avengers? Spider-man? Doctor Strange? Are they not all living in that city?"

"Forget I said anything," she mumbled. Shatterstar had a point. New York was a focal point for strange activity, more than any other place on earth. Did it really need the addition of a homeless, time-displaced alien gladiator wandering around the streets? "Would ye like me to take you to Grand Central Station?"

"What is there?"

"Transportation. I'm willing t'bet that yuir thinking about visiting Rictor, am I right?"

The tension on his face turned to longing. "I miss him."

"I know. Ye two were really good friends."

'Star didn't like her use of the past tense and fell into troubled silence. For all of his enthusiastic rutting with Feral yesterday, Julio had not been far from his thoughts. If anything, he wished that the Hispanic had been part of the assignation. Even though he seemed physically attracted to women, 'Star was very attached to Rictor in a manner that seemed to go beyond the dictates of mere friendship. He wanted to kiss and hold him again; he wanted to try the pleasurable things Feral had done to him. It was confusing. Such conduct did not fall into the brutal black and white divisions James had felt the need to address. How can a person be both gay _and_ straight? He probably would have asked Maria about that if he'd been capable of rational thought at the time. The opportunity was passed. Theresa, he sensed, had issues regarding liaisons she needed to address on her own. He would find no answers there. As usual, he was left on his own and, as usual, he was left floundering.

Theresa was aware of the lapse as the alien became lost in thought. It seemed to happen whenever Rictor was brought up. "'Star?" she prompted. "Ye okay, lad?"

"Yes," he said absently. "Just drop me off at any corner when we reach the city. I'll figure out where to go from there."

"'Star, I'm not really comfortable with the idea of leaving ye alone in New York without a plan," she confessed.

He flashed her a wary look and his right hand began to stray towards the door handle. "I've worked very hard to gain my freedom, Theresa. I'll go where I please. You will not stop me."

"No, I won't," she said quickly, waving her hand at him. "So don't do something stupid, like jump out of the bloody movin' car. I'll take ye wherever ye want to go. Relax."

"Oh," he murmured, calming down.

"Just do me a favour. The first payphone ye come across, ye call Rictor. Tell him what's going on. Get his advice before ye go and do anything else."

"I was planning on doing that," 'Star said honestly. He hadn't wanted to call Rictor again while in the mansion. Code 45 forced too many restrictions on him and he had questions. Personal questions of a confusing nature and he wanted to respect Rictor's desire for secrecy at all costs.

"Do ye have any money?"

"I have all that Cable ever paid me. Several thousand dollars." Unlike most X groups, Cable was well-established financially and paid the members of X-Force a steady salary. "I also have a phone card and another one with the letters V-I-S-A."

"That's sounds fine." She realized with dread that they were heading through the Bronx now. Very soon they would reach Manhattan. All of a sudden it seemed like she had an enormous amount of things to tell him and time was quickly running out. "Just try to be frugal with what ye have and don't loan anybody anything. Ye'll probably hear some real sob stories. Just ignore them. I don't know what to tell ye about ... Well, about women, now that yuir of-of _age_. Just-"

"Theresa-"

"Just be careful, I guess that's all I can say. Some women are just plain nasty. Don't use your swords against civilians, even if they're really stupid and obnoxious. Don't hurt anyone. Only bad super-humans. They're not easy to spot right off the bat, but I guess ye know by now-"

"Theresa, I will be all right," he soothed, brushing a finger against her cheek. "Don't cry."

She wasn't even aware that she had been. Glancing up at the rear view mirror she saw the tracks of tears down both cheeks. She wiped them self-consciously away. "It's just ... yuir one of the first to come aboard the team. Ye've been with X-Force from the beginning and I'm real sorry to see ye go. It won't be the same without ye. Please be careful, okay?"

"Okay," he said, nodded to the sidewalk. "You can let me out here."

"Are ye sure? I can drive ye all the way down to Midtown-"

"I like to walk. There's many sights to see in this place and I am in no hurry."

She pulled over to the curb and sat in her seat, squeezing the steering wheel with sweaty hands as Shatterstar grabbed the handles of his duffle bag and pushed open the passenger side door. She grabbed the sleeve of his jacket as he was twisting his body around to leave. He hesitated and looked back at her.

Theresa leaned over and kissed his cheek. He stared at her for a few seconds and grabbed the back of her head and kissed her full on the lips. Her mouth had opened a bit in a surprised gasp and she ended up moaning in pleasure. Their union lasted for perhaps ten seconds before 'Star pulled back and smiled at her. "Good bye, Theresa."

"Good bye, 'Star," she whispered and watched as he got out of the car and walked away.

She never needed a drink so badly in her life.


	11. Meanwhile in Mexico . . .

Julio didn't know what he was expecting when he stepped off the plane and entered the Don Miguel Hidalgo & Costilla Airport ( _except that it was fucking hot!_ ). He'd hoped to see at least one family face mixed up in the sea of dark Latinos and chalk-white tourists, someone to call his name, or grab his attention, or –dare to dream- actually come forward to shake his hand. The family name of "Richter" was somewhat synonymous with illicit activity so he didn't expect to see someone holding up a cardboard sign and flash it around to catch his attention, but he had at least expected _someone_ to be here when he arrived. His step-mother had known he was coming and there had been no delays of his plane from New York, transfer in California, and then to Mexico. He was right on time.

There was nobody waiting for him.

The airport was located in the town of Tlajomulco de Ziniga, sixteen kilometers from the center of Guadalajara, his home city. Trying to disguise his disappointment as indifference, Julio went to one of the taxis idling outside of the terminal, told the driver his address, and then leaned back to watch the sights. It felt good to blend in with his native population and speak Spanish again, not so good to hear the trumpet-heavy salsa music that was blaring from the cab's radio. That and the crazed traffic that involved vehicles that had never gone through a car inspection in the last five or ten years. If ever. Guadalajara was a beautiful city and the Richter home was in the wealthy North quarter. A home that, if the rest of the neighbors had their way, would be burnt to the ground or the family rousted out. It was no secret what kind of dirty money had bought the grand villa.

The taxi stopped at the gated front entrance and Ric paid the man, got out and went to the intercom, pressing the button.

" _Who the fuck is it?"_ came a gruff, slightly slurred voice.

"Who the fuck d'ya think?" He blasted back. "It's Julio! Open the damn gate!"

He could hear muttered Spanish going on in the background; " _Julio's back?"_ and " _Shit! Wuzzit today we was s'pposed to pick 'im up?"_ and the ever popular: _"Aw balls."_ The gates parted and, grumbling, Ric picked up his duffle bag and walked up the long driveway to where Hector, the youngest of his three uncles, was waiting for him out on the front terrace.

"Julio, my dear boy! So sorry for the mix-up!"

"Yeah, no prob," Ric muttered, swept up into a quick back-slapping hug that- by Macho Law- demanded at least six inches between each party and didn't last longer than four seconds. It looked like there was some kind of gathering going on in the house, judging by the half a dozen or so black Escalades parked in the cobblestone driveway with a couple of BMWs and Porsches added among the collection for some variety. "What's going on? I know it isn't a homecoming party, that's for sure," the youth asked, following his uncle inside.

"Eh, just a business meeting. Nothing that you need to concern yourself about," the heavyset man said in an off-handed manner, adding an overly-dramatic wave for emphasis.

Ric immediately translated that to mean: _There's a deal going down and we don't want you to know about it and possibly screw shit up._ He took the hint. "Where's mom?"

"In the kitchen," came the answer and the two parted company.

The kitchen had been one of Ric's favorite places to hang out when he'd been a kid. Back then, the family had a cook named Carlos and the boy had hung out with him for hours, chopping vegetables, making pasta, and listening to stories of the man's family. Julio had begun thinking that being a chef would be a fine profession until he'd made the mistake of mentioning that to his father one day. Immediately after that, he got dragged along on the old man's gun deals.

By the age of ten, Ric knew how to take apart, clean, reassemble, and fire an AK-47, the chief gun of trade in the family business, and his ease in using the automatic weapon was a fine selling point to potential clients. It made a great impact and was usually the clincher to close a deal. Until he understood the lethality of such things, it had all been fun and games to Ric right up to the day he got thrown in a Columbian jail, separated from his father, and heard the whispered comments from other sweaty, half-crazed inmates on how they'd like to run a train on his young ass. It wouldn't be until he was much older that he realized just how lucky an escape he'd had when he was finally freed from that place (if you counted seeing your father's brains coating your sandals any form of luck). That was how he had been first introduced to Cable, his father's executioner over a deal gone horribly wrong. It was revealed later that the man had been Cable's clone, a man named Stryfe, but first impressions were powerful things and Rictor had never shaken the trauma of that terrible day, blaming it all on Cable because the mutant was a convenient, similar target.

About a year after his father's murder, Ric's powers awoke. He thought he would have had strong family support over the discovery until he overheard one of his relatives asking another whether such an ability could be used to generate a profit. Panic-stricken, he had lost control of his power and created a quake in the neighborhood that caused a great deal of damage. He ran away from home then, got abducted by a terrorist group called The Right, and tortured to use his power for evil, destructive purposes completely against his will. After that came the liberating groups bearing the Xavier "X" to the name; X-Factor, X-terminators, X-Men, X-Force. He was really beginning to wish that someone would come up with something original.

He went to the swinging door of the kitchen and heard his step-mother's shrill voice barking orders at the new cook and servants and wheeled away from it to go upstairs to his room instead. It was untouched and as pristine as how he'd left it two months before, during a brief four-day visit. His real mother had died shortly after his birth. All Julio had of her was a framed picture on the dresser and the battered photo he kept in his wallet. He resembled her in many ways and had her expressive brown eyes and straight dark hair. Her replacement, Frieda Richter, was personable and always treated Ric fairly, but Julio had heard her say to his uncles numerous times that the mutant genes had clearly come from Sophia, his real mother. Ric had two younger half-sisters and neither displayed any hint of super ability, unless being a complete bitch was some sort of power. Ric was still on the fence about that.

He changed into a pair of swimming trunks and decided to lounge in the backyard infinity pool. Cannon-balling into the cool water recharged his battered self-esteem and he frolicked and swam for awhile before moving over to the ladder. As he hoisted himself out of the water, he came eye-level to a bright yellow thong bikini. Looking up he saw that his uncle Hector's niece, an older, attractive woman named Lucia, was standing by the pool staring at him. Nearby was one of Ric's evil half-sisters, Michelle.

"Well, look who's made his return!" Michelle announced, throwing him a towel. "You're looking very good, Julio."

Ric made no effort to do more with the towel than wipe his face and arms. He knew that his intense training drills with X-Force had given him a physique worthy of an Olympic athlete and, judging by the way Lucia couldn't keep her eyes off him, he knew his sister wasn't lying. He _did_ look good and, for a change, he actually felt it. "Yeah, my activities in the 'States keep me pretty buff," he said and flexed an arm, proudly displaying a bulging bicep.

Lucia's dark brown eyes went very wide. "What do you do?"

Before Ric could open his mouth, Michelle said, "He's a mutant."

That had the expected effect. The interest in the older girl's eyes turned to fear and she took a step back. "... really? You don't look funny."

"It's a power. It doesn't affect my appearance," he corrected harshly, flashing the youngest girl a resentful glance. "I generate seismic blasts," he said, making his right hand in the form of a gun and aiming it at the nearest deck chair. He knocked it back a few feet with a small charge of energy.

"Wow! I've never met a mutant before," Lucia marveled, looking at him with renewed interest. Her dark skin was flawless and her cheeks were flush with color. The nipples beneath her bikini top poked out like hard bullets and Ric noticed that the thong was clinging to her wet body, clearly outlining her plump cleft.

He saw how incredibly attractive she was, he even picked up her radiating sex appeal, but all he could think about was that she needed to shave her armpits. He could see the dark shade of stubble. Man, if that wasn't an indication he was fucked in the head, nothing was.

"How long are you staying _this_ time?" Michelle asked as they sat at the edge of the pool and dipped their feet into the water.

"For awhile. I'm kind of taking ... oh, I dunno, a break from school. Things have been kind of hectic."

"School," Michelle giggled into her hand.

Ric scowled at her. "Yes, _school_. I'm currently at Xavier's Institute for Gifted Students." He had to admit, it sure sounded impressive in a conversation.

"Oh, bullshit, Julio. You haven't sat in a classroom since you went to Philips Academy and how long did that work out for you? You didn't last a summer before you were expelled."

"Seriously! I'm at a school!"

"And are the other students like you?" Michelle asked with a knowing smile.

Refusing to be baited, Julio played dumb. "Mexican?"

"Mutants, you asshole."

"Yeah. In fact, my whole, uhm, class are mutants."

Lucia's eyes sharpened on him. "Really? Do you do normal school activities or do you go out and do things with your powers. I mean, look at you!"

"She's got a point," Michelle said, eying her half-brother critically. "You didn't get that body playing soft ball. And you have a few scars on you, too. What the hell kind of 'class' are you in?"

"A really rough one," was all he had to say of it and went back into the water. The two girls theatrically rolled their eyes and went back to sun tanning and gossiping.

Rictor did an impressive number of laps, more to impress the girls than out of any purposeful exercise regime, but eventually he began getting winded and decided to call it a day. He was getting curious about the 'business' meeting Hector had talked about and wanted to know a little bit more. He climbed out of the pool and reclaimed his towel, ignoring the girls' calls to join him and grabbed a quick shower in the bath house before going back inside and getting dressed.

All of his relatives and associates were locked away in the spacious den and he crept forward to see if he could hear anything. As he rounded the corner, someone grabbed his wrist in a painful grip and he immediately retaliated by whipping around and locking a leg behind the intruder's knee and bringing him down. The man had short-cropped, dark-green hair dyed orange at the temples and two tears tattooed below either eye. He went down with a surprised curse, rolled, and bounded back to his feet with surprising speed. He was about to launch himself at Julio again when the youth slapped his hands into that unmistakable gun shape and fired a weak blast that made the older man stumble back. He rubbed his chest, fixed Ric with a rather ugly, considering look, and then broke out into a cold smile. "So you're Louis Alejandro's little boy. I've heard a lot about you, Julio Esteban."

"That a fact," Ric said, not lowering his hands. "Dunno jack shit about you, buddy."

"I'm Jake Martinez, I work for your uncle Gabriel. I'm his right hand man, I guess you could say."

"Last I heard, Salvatore Desoto worked for uncle Gabe. What happened to him?" Sal had been a longtime friend of Ric's father and had later become Gabriel's trusted lieutenant. He was one of the few people among the gruff group that Julio had genuinely liked.

There was an odd look to Jake's light brown eyes when he said bluntly, "He died. We don't talk about it. Or him."

"Oh," Ric said and went silent, upset by the news. Such a terse explanation usually meant someone had become a snitch or gone to a rival gang and retaliation had been carried out. He didn't think Sal capable of such betrayal, but the warning in this man's voice made it clear the subject was closed. "So how did you manage to get tapped for the duty?"

"Ex-Marine Corp. Freelance merc 'til I hooked up with the Richter Cartel. I'm what you would call a real badass."

If he was trying to intimidate Julio with the boast, it obviously fell short. Ric was wearing a mocking little smirk that Jake definitely didn't like one little bit. _I know a real badass_ , Ric was thinking, barely even aware of it. _Redhead, has swords, doesn't take shit from anybody, and hung like a horse._

The pair stared at one another for a long, considering minute. It was mutual hatred at first sight. It was mercifully broken up when the doors of the den opened up and his three uncles; Hector, Gabriel, and Gonzalo walked out. They were flanked by several of Ric's cousins and Omar flashed him a particularly ugly look as he walked by to go outside, no doubt still riled by Ric's desertion in the hospital those few months back. There were a lot of faces that Ric didn't recognize but everyone seemed to want to catch at least a glimpse of the token mutant before they left the mansion to pursue their nefarious enterprises, so Gonzalo made the clearly reluctant introductions. Ric tried to remember as many names as he could.

By the end of it, it was just Ric, Jake, Gabriel, and Gonzalo left.

Jake abruptly held out his hand. "Guess I'd best make nice to the heir to the throne."

Ric reluctantly took it, saying, "It's my uncles' business and it can stay that way."

Jake spared the teenager a sharklike grin. "That a fact? That's no way to honor your father," he said and his hand around Ric's deliberately squeezed tight.

"My father's dead. I've made my peace with it," Ric said evenly and activated his power, making his hand vibrate and shaking Jake's right down to the bone.

The security chief-slash-mercenary pulled his hand back quickly, trying not to be too obvious about it. There was a decidedly catlike expression of dislike on his face as he stepped back. "I'll be keeping my eye on you, kid."

"I get the sneaking suspicion I'm too old for you, dude," Julio shot back. He just couldn't seem to keep his smart mouth in check.

Jake's amber eyes narrowed and there was no telling what might have happened next if Gabriel hadn't slapped him on the shoulder and passed him an almost unperceivable shake of the head. _Don't do it_. The colorful ex-soldier backed off and left with his boss and the rest his crew without another word.

"That wasn't too bright," Gonzalo spoke up. "Martinez is one crazy fucker. Not a guy you want to get on the bad side of, Julio."

"Hell, that asshole doesn't even warrant an entry into my enemy list," Ric said, thinking of villains like Stryfe and Apocalypse and Gideon. "Let him get a mutant power and maybe I'll take notice."

"All the powers in the world won't save you from a sniper's bullet fired from over a kilometer away. That's Martinez's specialty."

"Yeah, and I bet ol' uncle Gabe uses that talent a lot, huh?"

"Don't be like that, Julio. Business is business-"

"And I want no part of it. I made that clear the last time I was here."

"Yeah, and the last time you were here Omar went to jail, too."

"Oh, right. For how long? I bet he wasn't in custody for a day before he was back out on bail. The case probably got thrown out on a technicality."

Gonzalo shrugged but he was smiling. "Eh, what can I say? Low friends in high places, Hooly."

It wasn't a particularly satisfying answer. Troubled, Julio went downstairs into the rec room intent on playing some video games. He ended up watching CNN instead. The news channel was still talking about the riot at JFK back in New York. The shoot-out and hostage-taking had been broken up by both the FBI and S.H.I.E.L.D. and the select parties had been whisked off to wherever mutant/Genoshan rebels normally disappeared. Some sky-high variant of Guantanamo Bay, most likely. Things were pretty much returning to normal there again, at least as normal as a superhero-centric place like New York got, anyway. The riot must have happened right after his plane took to the air and it didn't surprise him very much that it had become so explosive. The tension had been so thick that he could have blown it apart with a well-placed seismic blast, and he had almost had attacked one anti-mutant prick if Shatterstar hadn't held him back.

At the thought of his best friend, Ric sobered even more. He sure hoped that he, Cable, and Domino had gotten out of the airport before the shit hit the fan but he had a nagging feeling that it probably hadn't gone down that way. The intensity of violence that had ensued after his departure had a distinctly Cable flavor to it and, without Rictor to haul back the reins, 'Star would go right back to being his right-hand man in all that mayhem. It was just one more reason Ric hated Cable so much and it had to do with 'Star's blind obedience to him.

What was going to happen to the Mojoworlder now that Ric was gone? No doubt Cable would do a brief happy dance and then go back to ensuring 'Star returned to active war toy status. How receptive the alien would be to that treatment depended on just how much of an impact Ric had made on him. Judging by their intimacy the night before, Julio was willing to bet he'd made as much of an impression as the alien had made on him. Hopefully, that counted for something. Lord knows, Julio couldn't seem to keep his thoughts very far from what had happened last night, that was for sure. Just thinking about the passionate kisses they had shared was enough to cause that responsive warmth in his lower belly, not to mention the feel of their bodies-

He checked his watch, knowing there was only a one-hour time difference between him and New York. Was it too soon to call and talk to 'Star? It seemed needy to want to hear his friend's voice again after just half a day and Ric bit back the urge and settled for playing Need for Speed on the Xbox until suppertime was called.

Gonzalo lived in the huge house with his own wife and four kids so there was a crowd around the table when supper was served. At least with a large Latino family there were never any awkward pauses as everyone tried to talk over everyone else and it was during rare moments like these that Julio felt almost normal. Eating with family with no world crisis looming on his shoulders and no crazies with powers mucking up a peaceful, stress-free affair. No one brought up the issue of his powers or affiliations, not even Michelle, and he was grateful for the rare anonymity. He was just a teenager, home from school abroad, and wanted to spend time with his family. The term "loved ones" didn't really cross his mind too often (although, when it did, it wasn't a member of the family he thought about), but he was content with the current family dynamic so long as they left him unmolested.

The meal was just about finished when his other bratty half-sister, Erica, just couldn't leave things well enough alone. "So Julio, are you dating anyone seriously?"

Rictor spat a mouthful of chocolate mousse back into his bowl and started coughing. "No," he managed to get out. "I'm concentrating on my studies too much."

Michelle was still snickering at the idea of her slacker half-brother being a scholar. Ric flashed her a dirty look.

"Once you finish your ... studies in the 'States, are you coming back here to stay, Julio?" Gonzalo politely inquired, looking at him with interest.

"I doubt it. I like it there. I'm just not too keen on the-the current teacher, is all."

"The silver-haired old dude who showed up with you when Omar got busted?" Michelle asked. "He looks like a douche. I don't blame you for ditching class."

"I didn't ditch them. I-" he couldn't come up with an appropriate answer. He _had_ ditched the team when they clearly needed him; one teammate more than the others. "I plan on going back. I just wanted to take a break."

"It is not right, you being in the 'States," the older man surprised him by saying.

"Maybe not, but I'm a mutant. At least there, I'm among my own kind."

The elder patriarch's face darkened. "'Your own kind' ... I know what you are, Julio. First and foremost you are a Richter. You are Mexican. I hope to hell you are being careful with the girls up there and practicing the safe sex."

"Gonzo! Not at the table!" His wife hissed in disapproval. The rest of the clan just goggled at Ric.

 _Oh my god, are we actually having this conversation right now?_ Julio thought in stunned wonder.

When he didn't respond, his uncle slapped his hands down on the table and half-rose out of his chair. "Julio!"

"I'm not involved with anyone! I _had_ a girlfriend, but we were- we're in different, like, classes and we never, we ... I-I-"

"I think he's trying to tell you he's still a virgin," Michelle said knowingly.

Ric blushed all the way down to his toes. The anger on his uncle's face turned into surprise. "At eighteen? With all those sweet honeys in America? What the hell's wrong with you?"

 _Oh man, if you only knew_ , Ric thought bleakly, at a complete loss for words.

Gonzalo sat back down and went back to finishing his dessert as if the lapse had never happened. "It is no problem. We will fix this."

"'Fix it'? What're you talking about?"

"Don't worry about it. Finish your dessert. I have to leave the house on business and when I return, we will discuss this matter in more detail."

 _Oh boy, can't wait for that_ , Ric thought with acute dread.

After that embarrassing scene, Ric decided he'd had enough happy fun time with his relatives for the day and retired to the privacy of his room for the rest of the evening. He laid in bed and listened to his iPod and jerked off. He tried to picture Lucia's skin-tight bathing suit and perky nipples, but it was the mental image of Shatterstar's hard cock that brought him off, confirming that his sexual orientation was not just a global restriction of the 'States and that – _hopefully, maybe_ \- he'd discovered some miraculous reset in Mexico. No such luck. He was still gay. _Aw balls._

After a less than restful sleep and a huge breakfast, his step-mother, Gonzalo's wife, and two half-sisters left the house to go shopping leaving him to watch over the four cousins left in their wake. It was like herding cats and he eventually marshaled them down into the rec room, getting into an argument with Tito, the oldest boy, over an extremely inappropriate video game called Gangbangers.

"Poppa let's me play it alla time!" the youth protested.

"It's a violent gangster game for older teens and up!" Ric shouted back. "You're only eight!"

"Jake says it's a good –what'd he call it?- simalashun for the real thing!"

"Jake's an asshole. He's the last person you should be listening to anyway. How about we play Mario Carts-"

" _I wanna play Gangbangers!"_ He was joined in this chorus by his even younger brother Andre. By now, the two older girls were chiming in telling him how lame a relative he was.

Ric threw his hands up in frustration and walked out of the room. It was about at that point he was almost glad he was gay just because he knew he'd never knock up a girl and get her pregnant and wind up saddled with an obnoxious little shit like Tito. He went upstairs and called the mansion. It was early afternoon and he really wanted to hear a friendly face. One in particular.

" _Thank you for calling Xavier's Institute for Gifted Students,"_ said the mansion's automated switchboard in a pleasant woman's voice that sounded suspiciously like Jean Grey _. "If you know the name or extension of the party you wish to speak to, please say it now."_

"Shatterstar. Gaveedra-Seven," Ric said and waited.

There was a curiously long pause on the other end before he found himself routed to Cable instead. Definitely _not_ a friendly face. Shatterstar was assigned a cell phone, they all were, but for a being as technologically advanced as 'Star was, he had the suspicious habit of always misplacing or breaking his. Probably deliberately. He called such devices "trackers". The story Julio got from their team leader cemented the young mutant's earlier suspicions. 'Star _had_ been involved in the riot at JFK and badly injured from the sound of things. There was an odd note to Cable's voice as he spoke; not quite accusatory, but not quite at ease with him, either. There was something going on that he didn't want to tell Ric, but the youth didn't feel like pushing. He felt responsible for 'Star's injuries, terribly so, and spent the rest of the afternoon brooding around the house. At that point in time, the four kids could have been shooting each other with real guns and he hardly would have cared.

A couple of hours later, he called the mansion back and this time he was transferred over to Siryn. The team's deputy leader provided far more insight into what had happened at the airport and the reason why Cable had been so grouchy. 'Star had used his mutant power on him out of anger and Ric could count on one hand, hell, on two fingers, how often he had seen the alien resort to using that ability. 'Star was now being kept in isolation in McCoy's lab for the next few days and that set off alarm bells in Julio's mind. 'Star wouldn't be willingly taken off the active roster if something wasn't seriously wrong. He managed to convince Theresa to smuggle a cell phone into the lab, but she called him back later and told him it wouldn't be possible until the following evening. The explanation he got didn't sooth his nerves. 'Star had a serious meltdown after being told by Cable he wasn't permitted to take part in a mission and McCoy had no choice but to sedate him for the second night in a row.

It meant another poor night's sleep for Julio who tossed and turned in bed and finally stared up at the ceiling of his dark room with burning eyes. He shouldn't have left the mansion, Cable's telepathic rapport be damned. He shouldn't have deserted his team. Most of all; he shouldn't have abandoned Shatterstar. They had started something serious the night before he left and cutting ties so suddenly must have sent loads of mixed messages to the Mojoworlder that he probably wasn't able to process.

"I'm sorry, 'Star," he whispered in the dark. "I got scared and I bolted and because of me you got hurt. I'm sorry." He rolled over and buried his hot face into the pillow and cried.

By the next day, it penetrated even his step-mother's usual indifference that something was bothering her deceased husband's only son. Even when breakfast was over and Michelle and Erica left for school (bitching that Julio should have to come along with them), she stayed seated at the table sipping her coffee and looking at the haggard youth sitting across from her. "What's wrong, Julio?"

His father's second wife had never been intentionally mean to Ric; she just didn't understand the nature of his mutation or the trauma he had been subjected to after he had run away from home. He got the impression that Hank or Jean had talked to her soon after he had been rescued by X-Factor, but there hadn't been any invitation for him to return home and, for that abandonment, he always felt embittered towards her. She didn't shout it from the rooftops or wear a brightly colored ribbon, but she was anti-mutant and it was clear just in the distance she kept from him at the breakfast table and around the house. Because of that, Julio just said that he missed his friends and kept it at that. The only person he might have confided in was Salvatore Desoto but, according to Jake Martinez, the old man was dead. Ric felt oddly isolated in a houseful crammed full of relatives. He brooded and moped around the villa all day until Siryn called him and told him a time she planned to smuggle her phone in to Shatterstar.

Nine o'clock seemed to take forever and when Ric's cell phone rang, he had it immediately to his ear. "Gav?"

At first, 'Star hadn't even sounded like himself: Angry, on the defensive, almost right back to how he had been when they'd first met. Him using Earth profanity was almost as rare an event as his using the shockwave power, so when he had said; _"I want to tell them to do the 'fuck off'!"_ Julio burst out laughing. He just couldn't help it. There had been a moment's hesitation on the other end as 'Star evaluated the humor, wondering if it was genuine or some sort of taunt. Just two days and already he was starting to slip back into his paranoid warrior persona. Ric was almost starting to worry until the alien shared the laugh and things immediately smoothened out. They couldn't talk about what had happened the night before Ric left the Institute. _Damned Code 45._ They couldn't really express their feelings, only generalizations hidden in roundabout questions, but it had still been comforting to hear 'Star again, his Spanish twisted by his exotic accent in a way Julio had already begun to miss. After their conversation was over, Ric turned in early for the night in far better spirits and enjoyed the first good night's sleep he'd had since he arrived.

Gonzalo came back from his 'business' trip several days later and he was barely home long enough to pamper his own family before he and two of his trusted associates, Bruno and Juan, took Ric out of the city for another extended trip. In their wake, it gave Hector and Gabriel and their associates the chance to meet and discuss what the long-term implications Julio's presence might mean to the family. As Jake Martinez had said before, Ric was 'heir to the throne'; the only son of the original crime boss who had started what was now a lucrative and highly profitable family business. He was also a powerful mutant with, it had been discovered, some rather startling connections. The relatives strategized for the next couple of days over what their options might be dealing with Ric if he stayed home, while Gonzalo kept him out of the house and made sure that he was entertained.

During one of the days that Ric was gone, Frieda began getting phone calls starting early in the afternoon. The man on the other end spoke perfect Spanish, even though his deep voice clearly carried another accent, and he was very polite when he asked to speak to Julio. He was persistent and by the fourth call, Jake Martinez snatched the receiver out of her hand and snarled into it: "Listen asshole. It's pretty goddamn clear that Julio doesn't want to talk to you. If you know what's good for you, you'll stop calling this number and go fuck yourself. You got that?"

There was only silence on the other end and then the caller hung up without comment.

The mercenary looked at Frieda with narrowed eyes. "If your kid asks if anyone called for him, what're you gonna say?"

"Nothing. No one called," the woman said quietly.

"Smart woman," Jake said and returned to the den where the private discussion of Julio Esteban Richter went on.


	12. The Games Begin

True to his word to Theresa, Shatterstar went to the first payphone he came across and pulled his phone card out of his wallet and dialed the number of Julio's cell phone from memory. It rang twice until a mechanized, pre-recorded message cut-in and told him that number was no longer in service. 'Star hung up and absorbed this information in silence for a few moments. Then, he carefully read the scuffed and peeling instructions on the booth and dialled directory assistance. When he heard a feminine voice in his ear, he said bluntly: "I do not know proper procedures in these matters. I have a phone card and money and I wish to talk to a friend in Guadalajara, Mexico. I know his home address. Can you assist me?"

'Star's heavy accent made it clear he wasn't a native. Fortunately, he lucked out getting a helpful operator on his first try and she patiently talked him through the procedure of placing a long distance call and charging the expense on his card. In a few minutes, the phone was ringing in Freida Righter's house. It was picked up on the fourth ring and the voice that answered was speaking Spanish and clearly feminine. _"Hola?"_

Switching languages effortlessly, he said, "Good morning, ma'am. I'm calling for Julio Richter. Is he present, please?"

" _Oh, I'm sorry. He's out for the day with his uncle. Can I take a message?"_

'Star hesitated for a few seconds. "There is no message. I will try again later. Thank you," he said and hung up. He stood there for a while like a puppet with its strings cut and gradually became animated again, picking up his bag and walking away. He had not anticipated that happening and was at a genuine loss. For all of his boasting of freedom and personal choice, he was accustomed to being told what to do and following the leads that others set. Free will had come late in life for him and was still something he was working through. He asked himself the most basic question first: How did he feel?

"I'm hungry," he concluded and focused on remedying that before pursuing anything else.

While Shatterstar ventured further into the city, his whirling thoughts caught the attention of a being that monitored all minds of the mega city just as efficiently as it did the entire world. The Omnipathic Gamesmaster was intrigued by this sudden introduction of alien images into his telepathic net and reined in his focus to that specific mind to investigate further. The Gamesmaster had encountered the language before, recognizing it as a Mojoverse tongue, although the individual was entirely different than who he had initially expected. It was a young freed slave, conflicted in spirit and utterly confused in this world. When he tried to venture further into those thoughts, he received a peculiar backlash of static that actually contained a trademark notification imbedded in a brain wave: _"Gaveedra-Seven Battle Model. Arena Call Sign: Shatterstar. Exclusive Property of_ _Mojoworld Interdimensional Entertainment Incorporated,"_ it proclaimed.

The Gamesmaster was intrigued. As much fun as he had playing with the minds of humans, here was something new and different dropped into his playing field. He regarded the dramatic boast of Mojo's ownership as a blatant challenge. Mentally rubbing his hands together, he set about on how to have as much fun as possible at the young alien's expense.

Shatterstar called the Richter household three more times. On his fourth attempt, the phone was picked up by an upset-sounding man who told him that Julio didn't want to talk to him and that he could perform some sort of contortion on himself that seemed unappealing and uncomfortable. After that rude statement was uttered, 'Star simply hung up and backed unhappily away from the phone as if it had bitten him. It was the only number he had for Rictor and it appeared that his friend's assurance of " _You call me anytime you want_ " was now no longer the case. Perhaps that was how friendships ended on Earth. Hadn't Theresa used the past tense to describe it? Maybe his association with Rictor really was over.

That meant he was alone again. Bad things happened to those who did not seek safety in numbers. That was why he had joined the Cadre Alliance. That was why he had stayed with X-Force. He did not know how to be alone and stay alive. His thoughts turned to returning to Xavier's Institute. It seemed as good a rallying point as any, distracting female presences notwithstanding. It felt like a failure of sorts for him to fall back on that option so soon, but it was clear that this had been a poorly thought out plan.

He had a tourist map of New York City committed to memory and unerringly plotted a course for Grand Central Station. He ended up eventually diverting from that path; attracted by sights that compelled him to investigate or chose to wander a different route that was familiar. By the time evening arrived, he was in Lower Manhattan in the popular Soho district, standing outside of the Drone's Club. He had come here a few times with Rictor and now stood on the curb, lost in thought. His presence caught the attention of an attractive woman wearing a tight red top that clearly displayed her ample bosom and a revealing leather mini skirt. She smiled and jutted out one hip. "Hm. You look lost. Want to get found?"

"I am not lost."

The woman looked flustered. "No. I meant do you want to go dancing?"

'Star thought of that brazen Stecky woman, privately blaming her as the catalyst for all of his present problems. "I ... Thank you, but no," he said, going on his way and not even passing her a backwards glance. Right now all he could think about was Julio, wondering why they had been cut off and worried that he would never see him again.

 _I know you're new to the whole superhero team thing, but people always come and go. It's how things work around here,_ Rictor had told him before they had engaged in mutual pleasure. Afterwards, he had avoided answering when he would be back. Perhaps this was what humans did when they parted, to avoid hurt feelings. To 'Star it seemed needlessly cruel.

He was so lost in thought that he barely heard the weak plea coming from an alley up ahead. "Help!"

"No use crying for help," responded one rough voice, it was followed by a strangled grunt and then laughter.

Another voice remarked: "Nobody wants your kind around here. Go back to Chelsea."

'Star reached the mouth of the alley and saw three young bald men beating up on a teenager who was lying in a contorted heap at their feet. "Enough!" he told them.

One of the men chuckled and grabbed the youth by the hair, yanking his head up. "This your girlfriend, Mary?"

"I do not know to whom you refer," 'Star said calmly, dropping his duffle bag. "I do know, however, when the sides are unevenly matched. So, I will even them." He pulled his swords out of the bag, satisfied with the looks of shock from the skinheads and chose to embed them into sidewalk. "But I will not need these towards that end."

Three against one. Three slow-witted, plodding thugs against one bio-engineered warrior who hasn't even reached his physical prime yet. It took maybe ten seconds to knock them down. No broken bones, just wounded egos. 'Star placed himself between them and their victim, watching them stagger away with muffled curses and exclamations of pain before he turned and extended his hand to the other teen. "Are you all right?"

There were bruises on the kid's face and he had a bloody bottom lip that was swelling. He took the hand that was offered to him and let it pull him to his feet. The teen had red hair, was tall, and had a slight, rangy build. Beneath the blood and piercings on his lips and eyebrow, his features were finely boned and handsome. 'Star was surprised by the resemblance they had to one another.

"Why ... why'd you help me?" the teen asked, eying him curiously.

"You required it."

"Sure, but this kinda thing goes on alla time and nobody _ever_ bothers to help."

'Star retrieved his swords and placed them back in the bag. "You'll have to forgive me if I don't understand. I'm not from ... around here."

"Yeah, I kinda gathered, not that I'm knocking it. Thanks, man."

"You are welcome, Mary."

"Huh?"

"That is your name, yes? I heard one of your assailants call you that."

The teen's face tightened up. "That ain't my name. It's meant as a slur 'cause I'm gay."

'Star was astounded by this turn in conversation. "You were singled out for violence just because of your sexual orientation? You did nothing to provoke the attack?"

"Low-brow Nazi skinheads ain't exactly my type. I just choose to be out insteada hidin it. I get my ass kicked alla time."

" _What is wrong with this fekting world?!"_ 'Star snarled in frustration.

The teen looked at the tall alien for a moment and grabbed the sleeve of his coat to get his attention. "Hey, don't worry about it none. It's just the way things are. For the record, my name is Benjamin Russell." As 'Star turned to look at him, the youth's slight smile broadened and his eyes shined. "And now, so is _yours_."

"I don't-" He recoiled back in shock, his mind assaulted with unfamiliar images; a complete psychic download that overwhelmed all of his senses and made him black out in simple, instinctive self-defence. When he came to, he found he was alone in the alley. The youth (if there had ever been one) was long gone. As he struggled to shake off what had happened, he was grabbed from behind and slammed face-first into the brick wall. For the second time in as many minutes, he was unconscious again.

For the next six days, someone else did his thinking for him. He and the rest of his team were overwhelmed by Sebastian Shaw and Holocaust, mentally controlled by Shaw's familiar, the telepath Lady Tessa. Shatterstar was absolutely fine with it all, reunited with his team and working along with them in rare harmony, no trace of his former weaknesses of flesh or spirit. In a way, it was like being back in the Mojoverse and surrendering his individuality for another's purpose. He had control of his skills and motivations, just no sense of direction, and when the X-Force team was sent to dispatch Cable, he could not be faulted if he set about tackling that mission with more than his usual zeal.

Cable was wise enough to respect his warrior skills, but Domino over-calculated with her trademark recklessness and it cost her dearly. Shatterstar gave her a vicious slice along her rib cage and managed to impale her through her left shoulder. Not his usual efficient dispatch, but he had been angered that she had stolen one of his swords and wanted to inflict a little suffering first before slicing her head off. Before he managed to land the final fatal blow, Cable managed to nail him with a brutal telekinetic attack directly into his right side. 'Star was fully healed from his ordeal at the airport, but his bones were hollow and he'd had to repair massive damage to his ribcage. The new bone growths were still delicate and vulnerable to direct attack.

He greyed out from the pain while Cable and Domino got away. He was dimly aware of Holocaust coming up beside him and expressing its displeasure at what had happened. The huge creature was ready to put him down right then and there. To his amazement, Shaw stopped it. Just before blacking out, 'Star heard the former Black King remark: "I am not at liberty to discuss it any further but killing this one, according to Lady Tessa, would bring another into our game. And that would not be in our mutual interests."

The battle reached its inevitable conclusion. Cable snapped them out Tessa's control with a psi-shock, swamping them with their memories and reminding them of their origins and friendships. For some reason, 'Star's flashbacks were not of Mojoworld or arena battles or Cadre forces. He was thinking about some place called Boston and faces of humans he had no names to. He began to develop a headache that his healing factor could not completely eradicate. He did not speak of this to the others, feeling bad enough for his attack on Domino who he genuinely liked and respected. They had been in battle and she had lost and paid for it, but such clear-cut rules of combat faltered when it turned out to be against a comrade.

When they were all settled back at Xavier's Institute and had some time to adjust, he visited her in the infirmary. She looked remarkably refreshed for all of her ordeals, her left arm in a sling and her pale skin marked by bruises and scratches from the battle with the others. She looked genuinely surprised to see him standing in the doorway. "'Star?"

He was barely able to make eye contact with her. "I have come in contrition bearing gifts," he murmured, carrying a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates.

"You have, huh? Gimme," she said, reaching for the box and looking at the label. "European truffles. Nice. You don't do anything half-assed, do you?"

"I'm sorry for injuring you." He was standing awkwardly beside the bed until she gestured at the chair and he sat down. "I should have fought Shaw's control harder. I should ... I-"

"It was out of your control. All of X-Force took shots at me and Nate." She rubbed her shoulder with a wince. "You just got closer than they did, that's all. I guess I shouldn't have taken your sword."

 _No, ya shouldn't've, bitch,_ was the automatic reply and he bit back the strange words. "My reaction was unwarranted," he said instead.

"It could have been worse and we both know it. You just pierced meat. You could have severed the bone or hit an artery and you didn't. You could have cut me in two. Some part of you was holding back despite Shaw's control. I know it, so does Cable. We're not angry at you."

He closed his eyes for longer than a blink and nodded. "Thank you."

"Are you back with the team now?"

"It appears my search for self-discovery was short-lived and presumptuous. Yes, I am ... back."

Domino regarded him carefully. "You all right, 'Star?"

He was clearly distracted by something that went beyond the events of the last six days. "I was told that Feral has left the mansion. She assisted Sabretooth in his escape and Psylocke was badly injured. I did not foresee any trace of such deception when we were ... together. I would have stopped her if I'd known what she-"

"Kid, you have got to stop blaming yourself for every little thing that goes on around here. Shit happens. Feral was never wrapped up all that tight to begin with. I know you two were close but that's the reality of it. I'm just glad to have you back. The team needs you. Now more than ever."

"I understand. I will endeavour to function to the best of my capacity."

Domino shook her head but she was smiling. "You've never stopped doing that. I know you've had a rough couple of weeks, 'Star, but you just have to remember that you're among friends here. You remember the team motto?"

"We take care of our own."

"That's right. I know that you sometimes think you're alone, but you're not. Okay?"

"Okay," he said bleakly.

She studied him for a moment, troubled by his odd behaviour. It was unusual for him to express remorse for his actions. On top of that he looked haggard, as if he wasn't feeling well. The others appeared to have shaken off Lady Tessa's control with remarkable ease but he appeared to be having difficulty adjusting for some reason. "You need to go report to Hank McCoy."

His eyes widened in alarm. The memories of his three-day ordeal in Beast's medi-lab were still startlingly fresh. "My injuries have already healed. I don't need-"

"Cable's orders. He's having the entire team checked out because of what Shaw put all of you through. It'll be alright. Hank'll just ask some you some questions. No biggie."

"'No biggie'," he mimicked, betraying a spark of amusement. When his guards were down like that he actually looked his age. "That's a new one."

"It means, 'No big deal'. And it won't be, so get going. Thanks for the flowers and chocolates. Especially the chocolates," she waved the box, offering him a smile. 'Star hesitatingly returned it and took his leave, and only when he was out of sight did her smile drop. She tried to send her concerns to Cable but he was engrossed in a frustrating conversation with Bishop and not listening. She blew out an annoyed breath and began eating truffles. They were just as tasty as they looked.

Siryn was currently in McCoy's lab getting checked over. There was no telling how long her examination was going to last and 'Star didn't want to wait around in the uncomfortable surroundings. He went to the Danger Room control room and saw the training area completely thrashed from Sabretooth's escape. He could hardly believe the totality of the damage. He didn't want to believe Feral was responsible for the security lapse and what he saw didn't look like her method of attack. It looked like explosives had been used.

"D'you think I did it?" a voice asked him.

He turned his head marginally and saw Tabitha standing inside of the door. He considered her appearance for a moment and then went back to his inspection. "That's a good look on you, Boomer, and; no, I don't believe you're responsible."

"It's Meltdown now," she said absently, ruffling her now-short blond locks. She sat in the seat beside him and looked down at the devastation. Cable and Bishop were standing amongst the wreckage, arguing from the looks of things. Probably over her possible involvement. "And ... thanks, 'Star. That's twice you've had my back."

"You're welcome. The damage appears too widespread for it to be attributed to your plasma bombs. You have far more finesse. What I see down there looks like chaos."

"Was that an actual compliment? Wow, 'Star, that's-" her voice suddenly broke and she looked away with difficulty. She had been getting the cold shoulder from Cable and Sam ever since they got back from New York. The alien's casual dismissal of recent events touched her deeply. "Thanks," she said again in a softer voice.

He stared at her and tried to use some of the words of comfort that Domino had expressed to him in the infirmary. "What happened here was not your fault."

"Wasn't it? The big blond bastard used me, 'Star. I would've figured of _anyone_ , I would have seen through any deception first. He really had me fooled."

"It is no different than what Feral did to me. And we were intimate."

Tabitha looked at him in shock. "You two were? _Really?_ "

He nodded.

"Huh. I guess that makes us a real pair of schmucks, doesn't it?"

"I guess so," he sighed. He wasn't going to bother asking what a 'schmuck' actually was. He had a feeling the answer would hit too close to home.

Silence fell between them and Tabitha suddenly rushed forwards and gave him a hug. It was so unexpected that 'Star was too stunned to react to the embrace. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and rushed out of the control room, as if embarrassed by her actions. He stared after her in confusion. He would have expected his body to betray him as it seemed to do whenever she was in close proximity, as it had done before their abduction by Shaw and Holocaust. This time he didn't feel anything but his old vague sense of detachment.

He was no longer sure if that was a good thing anymore.

McCoy ran late with his interviews with the others. 'Star was tired and not in the mood for more of the X-Man's invasive procedures by the time it was his turn. At his appearance, Hank immediately turned on the television and stereo, remembering how the conflicting noise seemed to soothe the youth. All it accomplished was aggravate him further. "Please turn that off."

Hank was visibly surprised. "I thought you liked the input."

"Not tonight," 'Star said, grabbing the remote and turning off the TV. When the stereo was turned off he closed his eyes, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead.

"I was going to ask if you were suffering any ill effects from Lady Tessa's control. I guess I have my answer," Hank murmured, checking his vitals. The teen's blood pressure was elevated and his eyes were slightly bloodshot. The fact that 'Star didn't try to deny the accusation was another clue.

"My head hurts," he admitted.

"Since when?"

"Ever since Cable shocked us back to reality with his psi-bolt."

"That happened yesterday. You've had a headache this entire time?"

"My healing factor seems unable to cure it."

"You didn't think to come to me sooner?"

"It isn't personal. I just hate fuckin' doctors, that's all."

Hank looked at him sharply. "What did you say?"

"Whitecoats," 'Star corrected himself, running an absent hand through his long hair. "I meant to say Whitecoats."

It took some coaxing but Hank got him to lie down on the bed. From there they engaged in seemingly random conversation and the X-Man caught a few more random slips of tongue that 'Star seemed unaware of. For an alien unused to slang, he used several expressions freely only to be puzzled when Hank repeated it back to him. Clearly there was something wrong but Hank was at a genuine loss what it could be. When Cable had eradicated the Reignfire possession from Roberto DeCosta, he had left a trace of his memories in the teenager resulting in knowledge of the future and the ability to speak Askani. It's possible that the same had happened to 'Star but his odd lapses, at this point in time, simply seemed random and obscure. Intrigued, Hank decided to investigate further.

When Cable heard the next morning that 'Star was still in McCoy's lab, he just about lost it. Team morale was faltering, and membership was at its lowest count. He needed everyone on board and Shatterstar was an integral member. The last thing he wanted to deal with was McCoy's insatiable curiosity getting in the way of that. He stormed down to the science bay and turned on one of the monitors and, yes, damned if the furry blue bastard wasn't interrogating his X-Force member like some deranged therapist.

'Star was yawning and clearly bored. "We have been over this and _over_ this."

"Humor me, then," McCoy said.

"I do not understand. There is nothing 'humorous' about this situation."

"Ah, yes. Your difficulty with idioms. I keep forgetting. I want you to close your eyes and try to remember the first ... the very first memory you can."

"I remember emerging from the Source. I was surrounded by vids of combat and warfare."

"And your parents?"

"My parents were ... they ..." 'Star visibly faltered. "You tricked me."

"No, I didn't. Tell me the first thing that popped into your head."

"It was ... nothing. I was a bio-engineered warrior on my world. Memories of any ancestral breeding were regarded as unnecessary. I did not have parents."

"Then why did you-"

Cable had seen and heard enough. _*McCoy, I want to speak to you now*_ he demanded and waited for the harried scientist outside of the lab.

When Beast emerged, it was clear he was unhappy with the interruption. "Cable, I'm not used to having my examinations interrupted by a very loud telepathic outburst. You really should go to Professor X for lessons on psionic subtlety."

"I asked you to give the X-Force crew a once-over," Cable said, struggling to control his temper. "To determine if Shaw left some post-hypnotic orders that I have to worry about. How does asking about Shatterstar's past help me?"

"The boy is a study of contradictions. His DNA, for example, matches the records we have on the former X-Man, Longshot. That is not physically possible. In addition-"

"Or maybe their race is far more different than you or I realize. All I want to know about is _Shaw!_ "

"It isn't as simple as that. You have to let me-"

"I don't have time for this. I'm late for a meeting," Cable snapped, walking away. As an afterthought, he sent back: _*Stick to the matter at hand, McCoy_ *

Without something substantial as evidence that anything was wrong, Hank had no choice but to clear Shatterstar for active duty. By this point, the rest of the team now knew of 'Star's involvement with Feral and blamed his distracted behaviour on her controversial exit. He was content to go along with the charade and went through the actions of working with his team while the ache in his head pulsed and throbbed.

Once, he looked at the phone in the hallway and thought longingly of Julio, quickly reining down on the emotion. He had been missing with his team for a week and, upon their return, had checked the switchboard for possible messages. Rictor had not bothered to call. It was obvious their friendship was over.

It was time to move on.


	13. Trust No One

Julio settled slowly into the house routine after his phone call with Shatterstar eased his mind. He helped out in the kitchen (over his step-mother's strident protests), he went sight-seeing in his old home city, he lounged around the pool. In short, he was finally relaxing and that was too long a treat that had been long denied him. Needless to say, he was entirely unprepared one morning to see that his Uncle Gonzalo had come back some time during the night and was seated at the table for breakfast with the rest of the Richter clan.

"Make sure that you eat a large breakfast," the older patriarch said, obviously in a pleasant mood. "We have much to do today."

"... We do?" Julio asked with a note of suspicion to his voice.

"Yeah! When we're done, pack an overnight bag. We might be gone a few days."

"Gonzo, you just got back!" his wife, Claudette, objected.

The man flashed her a brilliant stare and she immediately quieted, helping herself to some French toast and not speaking for the rest of the meal.

"Can we come too, poppa?" Tito said eagerly.

"All of you have school. I have not had the chance to show my favorite nephew around our territory. It's time he saw what his father worked so hard to build."

"Lucky fucking slacker," Michelle muttered distinctly under her breath.

Julio wasn't feeling particularly lucky. Still, he reasoned it could have been worse. He could have been paired up with his uncle Gabriel and be forced to endure Jake Martinez's bullshit for the next couple of days. He didn't think he'd have it in him. There was something about the colorful mercenary that really rubbed him the wrong way.

When he was packed, Gonzalo and two of his men, Juan and Bruno, took Julio for a drive in one of their spotless, armor-reinforced, bullet-proof glassed Escalades. They went out of the city towards one of the remote areas and the further they got from home, the more anxious Ric became. He was beginning to wonder if being a mutant was enough of a problem to the family that they were prepared to make him 'disappear' out in the desert. Maybe they had somehow found out about the 'other' thing and wanted to beat it out of him. He tried to make desperate small talk to soothe his frayed nerves. "Martinez told me that Salvatore is dead. What happened to him?"

There was a disturbing lull in the car as glances were exchanged around and Gonzalo finally mumbled, "We do not speak of it, Hooly."

It was the same damned answer and Ric took the hint and stayed silent, upset by the news. Salvatore Desoto had been a long time friend of Ric's father and had been Gabriel's right-hand man. He was one of the few people among the gruff group that Julio had genuinely liked.

Out in the middle of a deserted field, it looked like a makeshift shooting range had been set up to test weapons. The three men got out of the car and Juan opened the back hatch, pulling up a recessed part of the floorboard that contained a hidden compartment. Julio barely caught the AK-47 that was suddenly thrown at him. "Show me what Louis taught you, boy," Gonzalo said in an oddly soft voice, watching him carefully.

As if the six years had never passed, Ric broke the weapon down, inspected it, put it back together and slapped in a clip, taking aim at the target down range. He set it for single shot and managed to hit the painted circle, but he was rusty and the shot landed a few inches south from the red bull's-eye. Still, Gonzalo clapped and laughed with delight, as if he'd seen a marvellous trick performed by a trained monkey. "Nice shot, Hooly! Do it again!"

It was like being reacquainted with an old friend. Julio carefully readjusted the sight, lined up the barrel, and fired again, this time hitting the red. He did it two more times, just to prove it wasn't a fluke. He handed the weapon back to Bruno who looked mildly impressed by the display.

"That's why you brought me all the way out here? To play with guns?" Julio asked.

"Just checking to see if you still got the Richter talent," Gonzalo told him. "You don't disappoint."

"You want a show? I'll give you a show," Ric said, clasping his hands together in a gun shape and aiming his fingers at the target. He really powered up this time and the ground shook beneath all of their feet as his body drew the energy from the earth and channelled it up his body and out through his hands. He obliterated the plywood target and cut a swathe into the ground about ten feet thick and twenty feet long before he reined the power back. His hands were still glowing green when he looked over his shoulder at his uncle.

Gonzalo was quiet and considering, a far cry from his two bodyguards who looked like they were about to shit themselves. "Impressive display, Hooly. Far more control than when you ran away from home those five years back. I guess you _have_ been learning something in America, after all. What did you say those classes of yours were about again?"

Ric had been vague on the specifics of what he did at Xavier's Institute. "They've been teaching me how to control it. Turns out, I have an empathic link to the earth. I can detect fault lines and manipulate tectonic plates. In other words, I can create earthquakes. You remember that one four years ago in California? That was me. It was all against my will, but it was me doing it just the same."

"I remember that quake in San Francisco. Many people died."

Julio dropped his eyes and looked down at the ground, nodding. "I know. I still feel really bad for that and I've been trying to make up for it by- Well, in my own way. I'm careful how I use my power so that no one else gets hurt."

"Your father would not want you to dwell on such things," Gonzalo said. "Shit happens."

"Is that the motto of the family business every time one of the guns you sell takes an innocent life? ' _Shit happens_ '?" Ric said with amazing bitterness.

"The Richter Cartel provides a valuable service. If we didn't do it, someone else would."

"Hey, we're not talking about supplying beef to McDonald's here, uncle," Ric snapped. "What you're doing- What _all_ of you are doing is illegal!"

Juan held out his wrists. "Slap the cuffs on me, kid. Take me to jail."

"Yeah, like that'd do any good here," Ric said with a sneer. "The police are so far into your pockets you can do just about anything, and probably do. I'm not an idiot. I know how it all works. It's like a sick Circle of Life thing going on around here. You go and get pot for next to nothing, trade it with contacts in the 'States 'cause that's where 90% of your guns come from, and make about a thousand percent return on your initial investment when you sell the weapons down here."

"There is more to it than just _that_ ," the older man said in a guarded tone.

"Yeah, maybe, but I've got the jist of it, right? Remember, I used to ride around with my dad when he was setting up the deals. It used to just be in Jalisco state. I bet now you're connected all the way from Sonora to Chiapas by now."

Gonzalo didn't deny the accusation. "You can be a part of it, Julio. A very important part."

The young mutant was shaking his head even as his uncle was speaking the words. "I'm just here for a visit. My life is in America now." His earlier conversation with Shatterstar had cemented his resolve. Cable or no Cable, he was going to go back soon and face the consequences. "I don't want to get on your bad side, uncle Gonzo, okay? But I'm not interested in what you're selling. You can take that to mean it any way you want."

There was only silence among the quartet and they all stood together and observed each other. The only facial cue Gonzalo betrayed was a twitch of one well-groomed eyebrow before he spoke in a conversational tone to one of his men, "You know, Bruno ... Julio talks like a man now."

"He sure does, boss."

"Let's say we give him a treat worthy of a man."

"Sure. Sounds good."

"Huh?" Ric said as the AK-47 was stashed in the trunk compartment and everyone got back in the car. He got the feeling he had passed some sort of crucial test out here in the middle of nowhere, something that got approval and a little bit of respect. How things might have turned out if Julio had just thrown the gun to the ground was best left unknown at this point in time. All that Ric understood was that his uncle seemed satisfied and his two bodyguards looked more relaxed. Juan, the one sitting beside Julio in the backseat, pulled out a long blunt, lit it, took a draw and offered it to Julio.

"Uh, no thanks. Body's a temple and all that crap," Ric said lamely.

"You're way too tense for a kid," Bruno said, taking a hit off the blunt and passing it over to Gonzalo who amazed the teen by accepting it. His uncle puffed on the end with practised ease and then offered it over his shoulder to Ric.

"No, really-"

"You are a man of the Richter family, Julio. The only son of my favorite brother, may God rest his soul. Let us all hang out like men. Take it."

With peer pressure laid on that thick, Julio didn't have much of a choice. He reluctantly took the offering and lightly sucked on the end, trying to draw in more air than smoke and still ended up coughing up a lung while the other three roared laughter.

"Eh, those pussies in America have corrupted you, Julio," Bruno said when the laughter tapered off to chuckles.

"Soy-drinking, granola-eating assholes," Juan agreed. The blunt made the round again and this time Julio managed to keep most of the smoke down, at least for a few seconds. The next few times it got easier as they headed into the nearest township outside of the city. When they reached their destination, it was at some ratty looking building in a seedy part of town. Wherever they were Ric didn't give a shit; he was as high as a kite. Shuffling along with the other three men into the building it felt like his head was floating several feet above his body and he couldn't feel his feet. There was a broad grin on his face that he couldn't get rid of even if he wanted to.

"Ay Margarita, I want a special girl for my young nephew here," Gonzalo was saying to one tarted up older woman who was lounging in an overstuffed chair. "It's his first time."

There was some more conversation, laughter, some names passed around, money exchanged hands and, the next thing Julio knew, a pretty girl only a few years older than he was took him by the hand and led him stumbling down a hall to a room that had a single bed and a night stand.

"My name's Erica," she said, closing the door.

Ric, not having the slightest clue what was going on, was looking around the sparse surroundings in a stoned daze. "Yuh huh. I'm Julio. What're we doin' here anyways- _Hey!_ _What the hell-?"_ The girl had dropped to her knees and was unbuckling his belt. He stumbled backwards and the back of his knees hit the bed and he sat down. That didn't slow the girl down one bit. "You uncle paid me to give you a good time, Julio," she said, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down the fly. She tugged impatiently on the material and Ric managed to lift his ass and let her pull them down to his knees along with his underwear.

"Oh, holy shit," he muttered when she took his flaccid cock into her mouth and started sucking. Her tongue lavished the head as she flipped the limp roll from cheek to cheek with unrivalled skill. Ric fell limply back on the bed; the room spinning around until he squeezed his eyes shut and focused all of his attention on that greedy mouth and lapping tongue. It was what he would have like Shatterstar to do to him on his last night at the mansion but he had just counted himself lucky for the kisses and hand jobs. He could imagine that handsome redhead in the room with him right now, sucking on his cock, getting him hard, saying-

"How do you like that, Julio?" asked the distinctly feminine voice between his legs and it busted the fantasy to pieces.

"Don't- Look, don't talk, okay?" he said, struggling to get a grasp on his libido again. As long as it was some strange girl he had to focus on, he knew this wasn't going to end well. "Suck. Don't talk."

Used to all manner of requests, the girl stayed silent and did as she was told. Julio's drug-addled brain made it easier to return to the mental picture of Shatterstar's nude body again. He thought about 'Star's thick, hard cock and how it had spurted after Julio jerked him off that first time. And the two other times after that, generating an amazing amount of slick come. And the feel of the warrior's calloused fingers grasping his own shaft; too tight at first, almost painful, but – _damn!-_ it had still felt good. Because it hadn't been his hand. It had been someone else's. It had been-

" _Ungh!_ Oh Christ, Gav ..." he mumbled incoherently, his head lolling from side to side as his cock got rock hard in that warm mouth. It suddenly pulled away and there was the sensation of something being slipped over it and then there was a new sensation of legs on either side of his hips and something warm, and wet, and slippery engulfing his erect dick again. And it wasn't a mouth.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Erica astride him, completely nude. She grabbed his hands and placed them on her bare breasts and he reflectively squeezed, testing this new sensation while she rode his pole in slow, measured strokes. Her breasts were small and firm, the nipples hard and surrounded by dark areolas, and they felt soft and perfect under his fingers. Rahne's would have probably felt like this, if she'd let him get his hand under her bra. Maybe even Boomer's, although she looked bigger in the chest. Ric was left wondering what all the teenage urgency was about to see and feel them. They were just tits, and whore tits at that. Nice to touch but he wasn't prompted to do much more than fondle them. The sensation of her pussy around his cock was pleasurable, but he had preferred her mouth, maybe because it had been tighter. More likely because having to look up at her destroyed the mental movie he had been cheerfully playing in his head.

A strange look came over Erica's face. She was trained to read facial cues and the growing lack of interest in this young buck was beginning to bother her. She didn't want word to get back to Gonzalo Richter that she hadn't been able to satisfy his nephew. "Let's try something different," she said, getting off of him and sliding back on the bed, spreading her legs. "Fuck me, Julio. I want to feel your hard cock in me."

Ric looked at the glistening gash of her cunt and realized 'hard cock' was becoming a misnomer. It was half-hard now, and seeing her spread out like some sloppy model in a _Hustler_ spread wasn't helping. It was actually kind of a turn-off. "Can we try a different position? Like-like-" He had to wrack his stoned brain for a reference appropriate to this odd situation he was currently trapped in. "Doggystyle. How about that one?"

"Sure! Sure we can!" she said eagerly, flipping over onto her hands and knees.

He watched her get into position, holding his dick and realizing that she had slipped a condom on him without him even aware of it. He was losing his erection and beginning to wonder of he should even bother with the charade. But if word got back to his uncle it would be disastrous. Reading his hesitation and feeling her own sense of desperation, Erica said, "You can fuck me in the ass, if you want."

 _That_ caught his interest. "... Really?"

She reached for the nightstand drawer and pulled out a sticky bottle of lube. "I actually like it. Go ahead."

He smeared some oil on his fingers and ran it across her starburst, watching it pucker in response. "Don't ruin this for me. Don't say a word," he muttered, running a finger around her anus and poking a finger in, feeling the sphincter tighten around the digit. His dick was climbing again, rejuvenated by this wanton exploration of a previously forbidden zone. It was what all the gay talk revolved around; fucking someone the ass and he was actually going to have a chance to do it. All of the blood surged back into his lance and he thought of 'Star kneeling before him, wanting it. Wanting _him_.

He slid his cock into that tight sheath with a moan of ecstasy, driving it to the hilt. "Oh fuck! _Fuck!_ That's it! That feels great!" he muttered, pulling it out and driving it back in again, inciting a low moan from the woman beneath him. Whether it was pain or pleasure he didn't care at this point. All Ric could think about was fucking 'Star and he pounded that willing ass with furious strokes until he came just a few minutes later, crying out as his come exploded from the head of his cock. When he pulled out and fell strengthlessly back against the bed, Erica quickly pulled off the used condom and sucked him again, rousing another, smaller climax from his flexing hips until he was left gasping and drained.

"That was ... oh man, that was-was fantastic!" he marvelled, staring up at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes. Right now, he really wanted two things badly; a Subway sandwich and a nap.

"You'll tell your uncle I made you happy, right? My name's Erica. Remember that," she said, lying beside him and leisurely stroking his softening dick with her hand.

"Yeah. Yeah, sure, Gav," he mumbled contentedly, half asleep.

By the time he rejoined the trio in the escalade, he was so exhausted he could barely walk straight, but he was still grinning. Juan lit up another celebratory blunt and Julio took a few hits off it without any hesitation and quickly succumbed to a pot-induced doze. At that point in time, he was content to stay in Mexico _forever_.

He didn't rouse when Juan went through his pockets and pulled out his cell phone. Sitting in the passenger seat with a laptop now perched atop his massive thighs, Bruno downloaded all of the information from the device's SIM and memory cards. When he was finished, he threw Ric's phone casually out of the window where it smashed to pieces on the asphalt as the vehicle sped off.

"Send the info to Martinez," Gonzalo murmured to Bruno.

"You got it, boss," the bodyguard said, and all of the cell phone's data containing Ric's phone numbers of his teammates and various X contacts, all text messages, stored images, and GPS data were sent to Gabriel's security chief to be evaluated and studied for threat assessment. If Cable knew how much information was now in the hands of an unknown, his head would have probably exploded. Then again, he might have respected the deceit in the action knowing full well that age-old proverb: _Keep your friends close, your (potential) enemies closer._ Julio's presence represented a potential hazard to the family business and until Gonzalo and his two surviving brothers were convinced otherwise, their mutant nephew was to be watched closely.

Ric didn't realize his phone was missing until late the next day, frisking himself over and over and then rummaging through the Escalade like a crazy person. By this time, they were at Pascuales on the coast and he had wanted to take some pictures of the beach to send back to the team. James and Roberto particularly would have liked to have seen some of the fine Latino honeys soaking up the rays down here. "Shitshitshit-"

"What's wrong, Julio?" Bruno asked, coming up along side of him.

"I think that hooker jacked my phone," Ric grumbled, faced with a real dilemma. Cable had a strict policy about cell phones (he despised the damn things almost as much as Shatterstar did): When one got lost, it had to be called in immediately. Code 22 = Compromised data. It meant that everyone on the team would have to turn theirs over and be issued a new one. It was a real pain in the ass (Boomer had lost hers twice).

"Eh Hooly, if you wanted to see the girl again, you could at least come up with a better excuse than that one," the huge man said with a grin, handing him a beer.

Ric looked at the bottle in surprise, forgetting that in Mexico he was of legal age to drink. The brand of beer he was offered was called "Estrella" and had an eight-pointed star on the label. That made him think of Shatterstar and he tipped the bottle back and drank. It tasted good. He had a sneaking suspicion that the real 'Star would taste better and that made him forget all about the phone for the time being, thinking fondly of his best friend. In less than two hours, he was abysmally shitfaced. Bruno and Juan babysat him on the beach while Gonzalo disappeared to call back home and compare notes with Martinez, who'd had time to sort through the data on Ric's phone.

" _Do you want the bad news or the worst news?"_ Martinez asked him bluntly.

Gonzalo's face hardened. "Tell me what you found, Jake."

" _Your boy is hooked up in a mutant paramilitary group that makes my old Marine squad look like a bunch of pre-schoolers," the mercenary growled. "They call themselves X-Force and they're on the wanted list of just about every government organization in the 'States and abroad."_

The crime boss had been expecting just about anything but _that_. He slapped a hand across his eyes. "Oh _fuck!_ "

" _The only good thing is that the group operates with call signs. Julio's civilian identity isn't widely known. He goes by the name 'Rictor' on the team. R-I-C-T-O-R. The kid's obviously fuckin illiterate. It should be spelled-"_

"Who's he running with?" the crime boss snapped, wanting to keep the security chief on track.

" _The commander is a real hard case named Cable. I know him from my days in the forces. He used to run real nasty covert mercenary ops. Well-connected. Well-funded. Highly armed. He's grouped together a bunch of kids not much older than Julio is. The phones are preprogrammed to scramble personal data but I've got the codenames assigned to the most frequent calls: Siryn, Boom Boom, Warpath, Shatterstar, and Sunspot. I've got plenty of pictures of this bunch in costumes you wouldn't fuckin believe. A couple of them don't even look human. No doubt they're all mutants, but their power sets are a complete unknown. I think you really want to send your nephew packing back to the 'States ASAP, Gonzo. We don't need a guy like Cable or his crew coming down here and mucking up the works. That last time was bad enough. You get me?"_

Gonzalo leaned against the Escalade glaring over at the beach. He had been in the hospital the last time Julio had visited, but he had heard about the rumble that had taken place outside of the estate when "Cable" had arrived. "I hear you. Keep digging. I want to know who those people are just in case they ever set foot on our turf."

" _No prob. I'll call my contacts and work up some detailed profiles,"_ was Martinez's sign-off.

Armed with that knowledge, Gonzalo forced the anger from his face and joined the group on the beach who were all laughing their asses off. Particularly Julio, who was gasping out between hysterical laughter: "- _seriously_ , Gav ate the chicken; bones and all! I never saw _anybody_ chow down KFC like that before! Then he asked me if the bucket was edible. He just couldn't believe how much shit we threw away."

Juan was wiping his eyes and snickering. "What country did you say he was from?"

"Eh, I can't pronounce it," Ric said evasively, reaching for another beer from the cooler.

"Julio was just telling us about some of his classmates," Bruno said by way of explanation when the elder Richter joined them.

 _Classmates, huh? Interesting turn of phrase,_ Gonzalo thought resentfully. "That a fact?"

"Oh yeah, and he thinks that the whore might've stole his phone," Bruno said, adding a sly wink to his boss. "Maybe we can make a return visit so he can, y'know, _ask_ her."

"I think that can be arranged. You wanna see Erica again, Julio? Huh?"

"Sure. She's got a great ass," Ric said and released a loud belch, and that set off Juan again, who was pretty far in the bag himself. The quartet sat together and drank on the beach until the sun went down and then retired to a five-star resort for the night. Julio didn't remember much of his suite but, by morning, he could describe the toilet and pattern of tiles on the bathroom floor in vivid detail.

"Man, I'm _never_ drinking again," he muttered from the back seat of the Escalade during their drive back. The window was down and he had his face in the airflow, wearing dark sunglasses to cut out the glare.

"You still in the mood to see Erica again, Hooly?" Bruno asked.

"... Who?"

"Your girlfriend at the whorehouse. The one you think stole your phone."

" _Ah shit!_ I forgot all about that! Cable's gonna kill me!" Julio cried, fisting his windblown hair in frustration.

"Who's Cable?" Gonzalo asked curiously, looking up at the rear view mirror at his anguished nephew.

"Just my-my teacher, is all. He issued me the phone. Gets really pissy when one of us, y'know, his students, loses theirs."

"Eh, he doesn't have to know. Not right away. We'll pick you up one at the store. One of those expensive new iPhones with all the bells and whistles," his uncle was saying.

"-And aps, don't forget the aps," Juan chimed in, flashing his white phone at his backseat companion. "Best goddamned phone on the market. Check it out."

Like all teenagers, the excitement of examining something new was practicality written into the DNA. Julio had seen his fair share of high-tech gadgets, and had the chance to operate them, and this iPhone with its touch-scroll screen was one of the most fascinating things he'd seen in a while. He could pick up one of these in Mexico and download the encryption software from one of his teammate's phones when he returned to the 'States (Shatterstar would be able to figure out how) and Cable would never have to know how badly he had screwed up Code 22. If he got fingered for it later, he could say it got lost on a mission. "Oh man, I definitely want one of these."

"Whatever my nephew wants, he gets," Gonzalo said with satisfaction. At this point in time, his primary mission was keeping his mutant nephew happy at all possible costs. "But first you can ask your girl if you left it in her room," he said, pulling to a stop and shutting off the engine.

"Huh?" When Julio looked up, he realized that they were in that crappy little township parked in front of the whorehouse. He had been so engrossed in playing with the phone that he hadn't noticed.

"Go on in. She's waiting for you. It's all been arranged."

Ric handed the phone back to Juan and looked at them curiously as he was the only one getting out of the vehicle. "You guys aren't coming?"

"Eh, our wives are tolerable creatures, but we don't like to chance fate. Take your time while we wait out here. Have fun," Gonzalo said, smiling right up until his nephew entered the building, then his face went hard and somber. Bruno and Juan, knowing the score, leaned in to listen to what he had to say.

Obviously, Erica didn't have Julio's phone but she was happy to see him again and after some awkward small-talk, she led him to the bed and went down on him. Maybe because he was badly hung-over, or not stoned this go around, or because that "other thing" was kicking into gear, but he barely managed a half-hard despite her skilled mouth. After about ten minutes of her gamely trying to get him off, he pushed her back, tucking his dick back into his pants. "It ain't gonna happen," he said, red-faced and embarrassed. "It isn't your fault. I guess I'm too hung-over. Sorry."

"It's okay, Hooly," she said, massaging her aching jaw and trying not to be too obvious about it. "Could be, maybe it's 'cause you've got a type."

"I do like redheads," he said with a wistful half-smile.

"When you come back, you can try Shiela. She's a ginger; top and bottom." She placed a hand on her crotch and giggled.

He headed for the door knowing he wasn't going to be back, but deciding to humor her. "Sounds like a plan. Y'know, if my uncle asks ..."

"You shot across the room. That's what I'll tell him."

"And I already told him you have the best ass in Mexico." He flashed her a wink and left.

The trio were barely in the middle of their conversation when Julio returned to the vehicle and collapsed into his seat. They all turned around and looked at him in astonishment. "You're back _already_?"

"What can I say? Lock, load, and shoot," Julio said, forcing himself to sound exhausted. With the hangover, it was remarkably easy.

"Man, you gotta work on your staying power, kid," Bruno said, shaking his head. "Barely fifteen minutes for one lay-"

"Who said it was just one?" Julio said smugly, holding up two fingers.

Bruno thought it over and shook his head again. " _Shit!_ I wish I was a teenager again."

"What's that old saying?" Gonzalo mused. " _'What I used to be able to do all night now takes me all night to do_ '."

"How's about this one: ' _If God didn't want Man to eat pussy, He wouldn't have made it look like a taco'_ ," Juan said sagely.

The cabin of the Escalade exploded into laughter.

By the end of the trip, Ric felt like he had really connected to his uncle Gonzo and his two body guards. He was no longer a virgin, had gotten stoned and drunk (and experienced a hangover) for the first time, and had a sweet new iPhone to play with. It had been a great trip. He was still grinning when he spotted his step-mother and asked her, "Who called while I was gone?"

For just an instant, she looked at him like a deer that had been caught by headlights before she recovered and said, "There were no phone calls for you, Julio."

"None? Not even-" he caught himself in time. "Nobody from school?"

"No, Hooly. Sorry."

"Huh," he said in surprise and went to his room to play with his new toy. Maybe that one talk with Shatterstar had been all he needed. More likely than not, the warrior was cleared for duty by now and the team was off on one of their barely-legal, paradoxical, planet-altering missions. Ric felt a vague wave of nostalgia about missing that but he couldn't deny the fact that he was enjoying himself at home, and that was something he hadn't felt since he had been a kid before his dad got murdered and his powers surfaced. For the next week, he hung around the house, swam in the pool, enjoyed mind-blowing meals, went-sightseeing and shopping in the city. In short, he felt like a normal teenager again.

He eventually called the mansion and went through the hassle of the switchboard and this time the phone was answered by a voice he didn't recognize. _"Who is this?"_

"I could ask you the same thing, dude," Ric said, immediately on the defensive.

" _Your phone number is not cleared with our database,"_ the cold voice rumbled.

"That's because I got a new phone-"

" _Who are you?!"_

"Julio Richter. Code name R-I-C-T-O-R."

" _That's not how you spell it."_

"Yeah, so people keep telling me."

There was a long pause as he got put on hold and then that bass rumble was back: " _Rictor is not on our active status list."_

"No shit, Sherlock. I'm on fucking vacation!"

" _Curse at me one more time and I'll bar your number, kid. My name is Bishop and I'm the new Head of Security. I can't patch you through with an unknown number. If you were ever really a student here, you'd know the rules."_

"Of course I know the fucking rules-" The phone went 'click' in his ear as the call was immediately disconnected. _"Hijo de la chingada,"_ he muttered in disbelief. _"¡¿Qué pedo!?"_ He redialed, prepared to unleash a barrage of outraged Spanish on this man who'd had the nerve to hang up on him. He never even got that far. The phone rang once and then the Institute switchboard (sounding like Jean Grey again) informed him that his number was now permanently blocked. _"So sorry for the inconvenience. Have a great day_ _,"_ it signed off sweetly.

Brilliantly pissed off, he ran downstairs and used the house phone. Having to go through the hassles of the mansion switchboard again really got his temper flared up. By the time he got a hold of Bishop he managed to get out four words: "Listen motherfucker, you better -" before he was cut off again. Now his home phone was also barred. _Great._

He decided to wait until Shatterstar called him back. The alien wasn't stupid. He would figure out that the cell phone number was no good and call him at home. Julio had given him his address in Guadalajara. He waited and waited, but 'Star never called.

Things went drastically downhill when he went to the cemetery where his father was buried to pay his respects. This time he was chaperoned by his uncle Gabriel and Jake Martinez and he was having far less of a relaxed time than he had with Gonzalo and his two men. There was something weird about the way Martinez was looking at him, like he knew a secret and was busting to tell it.

Julio opened himself up for it when he asked the ex-merc, "Is Salvatore buried here, too? I'd like to visit the site."

"This is a Roman Catholic cemetery. There's no place on its holy ground for the likes of _him_ ," the green-haired man said with a sneer.

"What do you mean? Where is he buried?" He sure as hell knew that Sal hadn't been Jewish, that was for sure.

Jake Martinez smiled thinly. His yellow eyes fixed on Ric, looking catlike and entirely without emotion. "Do you want to know how Sal died, Hooly? Do you _really_ want to know?" he asked.

Ric felt all of the blood in his body drop to freezing, but he managed to say in a level voice, "Yeah, I want to know."

And so, Martinez told him.

* * *

Translations:

Hijo de la chingada – Son of a bitch.

¡¿Qué pedo!? – Are you kidding me?


	14. Freedom or Death

Shatterstar was in jail and he didn't like it. Not one bit.

He was in a police holding cell along with Sunspot, Siryn, Domino, and Meltdown. James was missing and Caliban was in the hospital for severe injuries incurred during their battle against the Externals; Absalem and Crule. Cable had been spirited away by Blaguesmith for some strange reason, leaving the remaining members of X-Force behind trying to explain the mess of how Gideon, a prominent business man, had been murdered. Adding the involvement of Selene, a vastly powerfully mutant with life-force draining powers, was proving an exercise in frustration.

They had been surrounded by armed police when they'd recovered from Selene's attack. It had been Domino's decision to surrender. X-Force was already regarded as a mutant terrorist cell and she didn't want to compound the impression with a body count of civilian forces. As expected, Shatterstar took the most convincing. He had been on edge during the entire mission and challenging Domino's orders with a savagery she hadn't seen since she'd first met him. When the police confiscated his swords, he almost went berserk. It had taken Sunspot to restrain him, almost dislocating his shoulders before he finally relented. They were brought to the 53rd Precinct and put through processing; their gear and clothes taken away and replaced by unflattering green overalls. The detective in charge of the case wanted to place them all in separate holding cells, but clear evidence they were mutants warranted them being housed together, just to keep a better eye on them. An armed contingent of SWAT members were standing at attention outside of their cell, watching their every move.

Sunspot had been taken away first, led to an interrogation room that was nicknamed "The Box" where he could be questioned directly. He was gone for well over two hours before coming back, seemingly none the worse for wear for the strong arm tactics used by the detectives investigating the case. Siryn was escorted out of the cell next and that was when Shatterstar began his restless pacing, unable to stop even as Tabitha complained it was making her dizzy. He couldn't seem to help himself. The barred cell reminded him of his kennel back on Mojoworld; complete with barren cot, old toilet, and the complete lack of privacy. That made it bad enough. But he was also stricken by a puzzling sense of what Meltdown coined 'Déjà vu', as if he had gone through these Earth ordeals of fingerprinting and incarceration before. That duplicity in his thought process was beginning to wear him down, that and the constant awful ache between his ears. When Domino grabbed his arm he instinctively raised his free hand into a fist, poised to strike before he recognized who it was.

"Calm down," she said, pretending not to notice the near-miss. "You're making all of us nervous."

"We should not be here!" he growled. "We should _not_ have surrendered. We could have fought our way through to freedom!"

"Hey, we don't all have a nifty healing factor like yours. We're already down two people and simply can't afford any more losses. Cooperating with the police was the best strategy at the time."

An officer was standing nearby with his hands clasped around his assault rifle. "You really should listen to her, kid."

" _Fuck you!"_ 'Star shot back, giving him the finger.

Tabitha burst out laughing at the unexpected reaction. "You tell 'em, 'Star! Looks like all those hours of watching HBO are finally paying off!" Sunspot was beside her, only his wide, astonished eyes visible in his dark, empowered form.

"Shit," Domino mumbled, forcibly dragging the warrior away from the bars. "You have got to cool it! Pretty soon they're going to question you, too, and you're going to have to hold it together. You hear me?"

"We did nothing wrong. We should not be treated in this manner. _I want my swords back!"_

Domino figured that's what was really at the crux of 'Star's tantrum; some sort of separation anxiety from his weapons which were tied directly into his DNA. He didn't feel whole without them. "They're in a safe place. You'll get them back. Right now, you just have to be patient-"

" _Fekt!"_ he snarled, tearing his arm free and going back to his aimless pacing.

When Siryn returned, she looked visibly flustered and Domino was filled with dread when they pulled Shatterstar from the cell next. It was clear from his conduct that he was the most agitated of the five of them, and that marked him as a potential weak link in the eyes of interrogators. She could only pray that he could hold it together through the interview.

'Star was taken from one confining environment and placed into another smaller room, surrounded by armed, hostile humans. There was a heavy-set man seated at a table with a file folder open in front of him and the alien warily backed into the furthest corner. "I will not cooperate with you. I wish only to have my swords returned to me and this farce to end."

Detective Marconi only grunted as if he heard requests like that all day long. "Take a seat, Benjamin."

'Star looked at him curiously. "What?"

"Benjamin Russell. That's you, ain't it? See, the rest of your crew refused to give their names."

"I see no reason to call me a name which is not my own."

"Yeah? How come then this police report says otherwise? Now take a seat. _Benjamin_."

Figuring this to be some sort of interrogation tactic to disarm him, 'Star crossed his arms and didn't budge. "You are clearly mistaken. I have never been here before."

Marconi held up a police photo. The teenager in the picture bore close resemblance to 'Star but his red hair was cut short, there were piercings on his face, and he had no trace of the star tattoo. "Your fingerprints came back flagged. You're in the system, kid. Drug possession, petty burglary, assault. Even prostitution. Not too bright to be peddling your ass in this day and age."

'Star opened his mouth to respond and found his ability to speak was gone. He stared at the cop in complete astonishment, shaking his head.

"Let's just make things clear between us right now. I don't like you, Ben, and I'm in no mood to fuck around. Now, sit your ass _down_."

'Star's eyes flashed in anger. "I am no longer anyone's property! Not Mojo's and especially not _yours_! I take orders from _nobody!_ "

One of the cops was moving forward and the alien bared his teeth at him. "Touch me and I will rip your arm from its socket. That is not a threat, it is a _fact_. Keep your distance."

"This is getting out of control," Detective Jones remarked, waving the policeman off. "Look, Ben, we just-"

" _That is not my name!"_ 'Star raged at her in Cadre. _"I will not fall for any more of your tricks! You will release me immediately!"_

There was stunned silence for a few seconds and Jones finally spoke up. "Everybody out. I want to talk to him alone."

Marconi looked at her as if she was crazy. "You outta your mind, Jonesy?"

"Probably," she sighed, staring at the agitated teen. "But your methods clearly aren't working. I'll be fine."

Shrugging, the detective got to his feet and gestured at the two cops to leave the interview room. As they walked out, Marconi looked at 'Star and deliberately remarked, "You should be safe with him, Jonesy. I get the impression he's not too partial to the ladies."

'Star shot him a confused glare as the door slammed closed.

"Ignore him," Jones said, sitting behind the table. She deliberately closed the police file and set it aside. "And ignore this. I just want to hear what happened to Mr. Gideon."

Staring back at her uneasily, 'Star considered this change in tactics. "I will speak of Gideon's fate," he said at last. "Nothing else."

Jones clasped her hands together on top of the table and smiled at him. "That's just fine. Whenever you're ready to start."

In their holding cell, Domino and the others heard Shatterstar shouting shortly after he was taken away and waited in dread for the body count to start. To their amazement, things went quiet for the next hour before 'Star was escorted back. He appeared unusually cowed and silent, eyes to the ground. When he was back in the cell, he wordlessly went to the cot and sat until his back was against the far wall, drawing his knees to his chest and clasping his muscular arms around them. He looked like he was in shock.

"'Star? You okay?" Domino asked. She was hauled out of the cell next before she could receive an answer.

The alien didn't hear her anyway. He was left brooding over the disturbing conversation with the corpulent detective. He recognized the name 'Benjamin Russell' as belonging to the teenager he had helped in New York barely two weeks before. Something had happened after that rescue, something that made his temples throb when he tried to concentrate on it. Now he was being told that he was that person, and there appeared to be evidence to the fact. He simply did not understand.

"What'd they say to ye?" Theresa said, sitting beside him. Tabitha was on the other side and Bobby was crouched beside the cot. "What happened?"

"I don't know. None of it made any sense," he muttered. "They said I was here before."

"What the hell are they playing at? You've never been arrested!" Bobby said, frowning.

"They had a file. It had a picture of someone who looked like me. It said- they ..." He pressed the heels of his hands against his closed eyes. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. Please leave me alone."

"Sure, Shatty. C'mon guys, you heard him," Tabitha said, getting back to her feet. The three settled against the far side of the small cell, looking at him with concern. "Oh wow, he's really upset."

"The cops'r desperate," Theresa remarked under her breath. "They're pullin' out all the tricks. They managed to rattle me. 'Star's not even been on earth a year yet. He wouldn't know any better if they were lyin' t'him or not."

"Hell, I just laughed at them," Bobby said. "Then again, I could have just flown up through the roof if I'd wanted to and they knew it."

"Domino'll tell 'em where to go," Tabitha said, on the cusp of serious anger. She didn't like seeing any member of her team being messed around with, Shatterstar in particular. "If she doesn't, I sure as hell will."

Theresa looked at her. "Careful, girl-"

"Oh relax. I'm just gonna give them a reminder of who they're dealing with, that's all," she said, and she was true to her word when Domino was brought back less than twenty minutes later.

As astonishing as it all sounded, each of their stories supported the other's. The detectives also processed several independent security camera feeds that further collaborated what had happened at Rockefeller Center. For the police, watching the videos of the battle from various angles was like previewing trailers of some cinematic blockbuster complete with state-of-the-art CGI effects. The five members of X-Force were given their gear back and released. As they walked out of the station, Shatterstar glared back at Marconi and the detective pursed his lips as if pantomiming a kiss. Bobby had to grab onto the alien's arm when it looked like he was about to attack. "Let's go, 'Star. It isn't worth it."

"Watch your ass, pretty-boy," Marconi called out as they left, adding a mocking laugh.

When they got back to the mansion, Shatterstar made it clear he didn't want to talk about what had happened at the precinct. Cable was off on one of his personal crusades and all of the X-Men were away on a mission. Domino debated going to Xavier with her concerns but she was well aware of the caveat of her team and really didn't want to subject 'Star to further stress. What he really needed most was some downtime and she could only hope they would get a few days off to decompress.

It didn't happen. The team was barely settled when they were placed on a mission directly from Professor Xavier. They had to infiltrate the S.H.I.E.L.D. heli-carrier to rescue Scott Summers. He had been taken prisoner by G.W. Bridge, the appointed director of a new government watchdog group called Mutant Affairs. Shatterstar was filled with second-doubts ever since his run-in with the police. It helped that he was paired with Tabitha. She was grateful for his support through the matter with Sabretooth and happily watched his back just in case he faltered. Their task was accomplished with remarkable ease and by the end of it Shatterstar felt honoured to have helped rescue a coveted X-Man as Lord Cyclops. When he saw the mutant reunited with his wife, the revered Jean Grey, and the pair start kissing, he quickly looked elsewhere. Siryn and the others figured he was thinking of Feral. They were wrong.

The events following that rescue escalated quickly. Xavier became possessed by Onslaught, a powerful foe unlike any they had encountered before. While the main X-groups tried to deal with him, X-Force had their hands full with Sinister. At least they were a full crew again, with Caliban back in full health and James Proudstar with the team along with his new girlfriend, Risqué. It was good news because by now, Shatterstar was seriously beginning to falter. Too many days of little to no sleep coupled by that headache that simply would not leave. He was beginning to have difficulty concentrating and this was a situation that needed all of his resources at hand. Sinister was a foe immune to all of their individual abilities who had absolutely no hesitation to use deadly force. When the villain had Siyrn in a brutal chokehold poised to break her neck, 'Star managed to separate them before being defeated in short order.

As he lay stunned, Sinister was about to finish him and regarded him with interest instead. "If you had the slightest inkling of the devastating power you wield you might actually become an actual threat. At any other time, it would be ... intriguing to see what you would do with that ability." A being of insatiable curiosity, he actually hesitated in his actions before being distracted by attacks from the others.

Taking advantage of the brief respite, Siryn grabbed her throat, coughing, and regarded 'Star who was trying to shake off Sinister's assault. "I heard that. Did ye know what he meant?"

He shook his head. "He's a villain. Since when does _anything_ they say make sense?"

"Yeah, but 'Star-!"

"Now's not the time, Siryn." He took off after Sinister.

It was rare when they encountered a foe they could not vanquish and Sinister proved as ruthless and canny as any on record. The villain tricked the X-Man, Nathan Christopher, to release a psionic blast and reflected it back at the mutant team at ten times the original force, knocking them all unconscious. By the time they recovered, Sinister was long gone.

"Do we go after him?" James asked Domino, checking on Risqué, who was clearly favouring her left shoulder.

"Are ye mad?" Theresa croaked, still rubbing her aching throat.

"We're staying right here." Dom decided quickly. "We'll regroup first. Try to get in contact with the X-Men and see what they-"

"Shatty?" Tabitha was kneeling beside the warrior who had yet to rise. Sunspot came along side of her and shook him. "Hey, Shatterstar!"

"Caliban senses strange things in friend-Star," the former-Morlock commented, kneading his huge hands together nervously. "Strange, bad things."

"Hey 'Star, wake up," Domino said, pulling on the alien's shoulder and hauling him onto his side. His nose was spouting blood and this altered position made it run into the back of his throat. He woke up coughing. Dom helped him sit up, slapping his back as he struggled to catch a breath. "What's wrong?"

He spat out a mouthful of blood and pressed a hand to his temple. " _Mahz coutreh ii_ ," he said weakly. " _Hijo de puta_ ... hurts like a _mother_ fuck!"

Tabitha was staring at him with concern. "What hurts, 'Star?"

"S'not m' name," the alien murmured. "Lemme alone. Alla youse."

In the background, Roberto, Siryn, and James exchanged astonished glances. For some reason Shatterstar's usual heavy, alien accent had turned into a fuzzy Boston drone. Domino loped one of the warrior's arms around her shoulders as Tabitha supported his other side. "We're going to take you to the infirmary. Hold on tight."

He made some vague sound of protest and suddenly slumped unconscious again.

It took a long time for the nosebleed to stop despite 'Star's healing factor. He didn't achieve anything more than a sludgy semi-consciousness, speaking a peculiar blend of Cadre, English, Spanish, all peppered with colourful profanity the few times he was marginally lucid. Cable made sure he was comfortable and then got caught up on events by Domino. She had a lot to say. Hearing it all, the silver haired mutant realized he should have let Hank McCoy conduct his full examination on 'Star. From the sounds of things, something was seriously wrong.

That was made clear when Cable prowled the mansion in the late hours of night and heard the television playing in the entertainment room. He knew his exhausted team and the present student body were all in bed at this time of night. He was astonished who he discovered sprawled out on the sofa and watching a baseball game. "Shatterstar?"

The youth regarded him for a moment and sat up, reluctantly putting the TV on mute.

"You're supposed to be in the infirmary resting."

"I'm resting fine right here."

Cable wasn't unsurprised by the answer, knowing of the alien's preference to TV. "Domino told me that you've been having some problems adjusting since that episode with Shaw. In particular, there was an incident at the precinct that had you upset. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Nope," 'Star said. "Don't wanna talk about no fuckin pigs."

Cable had been about to add something and suddenly looked at him in surprise. "What did you say?"

"I said, I don't wanna talk. You deaf?" the alien said shortly. He reached down and brought a can of beer to his lips and drank deeply before setting it back down. That was when Cable noticed several empties lying on the carpet. "The Sox are kickin' the Tigers' asses for a change and I really don't wanna miss out. We'll gab when it's done."

"No, we won't," Cable said, walking closer to the couch. He regarded the Mojoworlder closely, noticing the dark circles under his eyes, the overall haggard appearance. "When's the last time that you've actually gotten a decent night's sleep?"

"Dunno. Don't care. What's it to youse anyways?"

 _*I want you to go up to your room right now and go get some sleep*_ the mutant sent directly into his mind, adding a deliberate telepathic push.

'Star just sneered. "Yeah, right. Screw you. The Sox are playin'," he said and focussed his attention back to the ball game on the television, turning up the volume and deliberately ignoring him.

Cable studied him for a long, considering moment and then wordlessly left the room. He appeared a short time later with Domino in tow. She was clad in her robe and her hair was dishevelled but she looked startlingly awake. They stood together, conferring mentally for a few minutes before she went and sat down next to the teenager. She considered her words carefully and was about to speak just as he took a sip from the can of beer and suddenly spit it out. _"Fekt!_ Kiya sai?"He looked at the label on the can in confusion before it dawned on him that he wasn't alone. "... Domino?"

"'Star?" she asked warily. "Is that you?"

He frowned. "I do not understand the context of that question. Who else would I be?" He looked at his surroundings in confusion and realized that Cable was standing behind the back of the couch. "Is the battle over? Did we win?"

"We're all still alive. I count that as a win. What's the last thing you remember?" the huge mutant asked calmly.

"Sinister's psychic attack. I-" He rubbed his forehead in a gesture that was getting far too familiar for Domino. "It was worse than that psi-bolt you unleashed to break us free from Shaw's control. It hurt severely. It ... still does."

"I want you to go to bed and get some sleep. That's an order," Cable barked.

"Yes, sir." He rose obediently to his feet, noticing the television. "Was I watching that?"

"Yes," Domino said.

"Za's Vid, I don't even like baseball," he muttered and left the room, heading upstairs to his quarters.

Cable and Domino stood together in the entertainment room staring wordlessly at the TV, the litter of beer cans, the staircase, and finally at each other. Verbally and mentally they had no words to share.

Shatterstar managed almost three hours sleep before he was back to prowling the mansion again. He ended up in the remodelled Danger Room and went through training drill after gruelling training drill, focusing on simplicity and repetition to compensate for his clear lack of focus. At one point, well past the stages of exhaustion even by superhuman efforts, he staggered off to the bathroom and dry-heaved over the toilet until he just about passed out. After a brief rest, he went back to repeating that physical torture all over again.

Because of the Onslaught battle taking place in the Middle East, Cable and Domino were the only adults left in the mansion and they had their hands full fielding questions from present students and their own X-Force team. As much as Cable wanted to join the main battle, he could not- in good conscience- abandon all these young charges who were looking to him for protection and guidance. He and Dom had no choice but to stay with them, just in case Sinister returned, or they were attacked by some other villainous team who might realize the X-Men had their hands full elsewhere. He geared up, armed to the teeth with his nastiest weapons, and patrolled the perimeter of the mansion. It was ultimately Domino who Marrow went to with her concerns that the Danger Room was locked-out with only one person listed as inside: Shatterstar. And he had been in there for over six hours.

Domino honestly didn't know what she'd find when she over-rode the locks, bringing Jimmy along as back-up. There was no hologram running some crazy Mojoworld venue, no Sentinel-battle program, no android/combat drones. The room was set in weight-training mode but there was no trace of the alien. She examined the equipment and found most of the hand-holds and weight bars smeared with blood. Tracking the droplets of tacky blood to the bathroom, Domino found the teen inside and sitting on the floor, staring down at his hands. They were a swollen mess of blisters and torn skin and still bleeding freely. He looked up at her with unmistakable fear in his face. "My healing factor isn't working anymore," he said in a strengthless, shocked voice. "I'm becoming human. I ... I'm becoming _him_."

Domino sent James off to go find Cable. She could have contacted her partner through their rapport but she wanted to get the shocked Native out of earshot so she could have a private conversation. She grabbed a towel and wetted under the faucet and wrapped it around 'Star's wounded hands. "Who, 'Star? Who are you talking about?

"Benjamin Russell," he rasped, barely aware that she was in the room so great was his exhaustion. Domino took advantage of his weakened state and managed to get the story about what happened to 'Star when he had gone to New York. And why his interrogation at the 53rd Precinct had bothered him so badly.

She transmitted all of the information to Cable while managing to coax the teen to his feet and helped him to the infirmary. Barely before he was settled on the nearest bed, he slumped unconscious and she noticed it was only then when his hands began healing. By the time Cable joined her, they were clear and unmarked. "This isn't good, Nate," she fretted. "Something is seriously wrong with him."

"I know, Dom." Cable sat by the bed and placed his human hand on the alien's temple. When Xavier had still been present, he had graciously offered Nathan some guidance and pointers on how to better direct his telepathic powers. To his credit, the mutant had paid keen attention and he was now grateful for the tutelage. He entered the Mojoworlder's mind with all the care and subtlety he could manage. He encountered a complex network of thoughts that were both native and invasive, finding them tangled together into a knot of memories so complex that it was almost impossible to tell one apart from the other. There was clear evidence of damage here; the veil around the teenager's mind was wrapped in a swollen, blood-red shroud. Lady Tessa's mind-control hadn't helped, but the brunt of the psychic trauma had come from him when he had psi-stunned the team, and the rest from Sinister's mental assault. Shatterstar's healing factor was working overtime trying to repair the damage to his brain, but it was clearly a losing battle. From the looks of the mental scarring, 'Star had been suffering for weeks and was deteriorating at an alarming rate.

As Cable patrolled the less injured areas, trying to find some way to make sense of this assault, he encountered a trademark declaration that stated clearly: _"Gaveedra-Seven Battle Model. Arena Call Sign: Shatterstar. Exclusive Property of_ _Mojoworld Interdimensional Entertainment Incorporated."_

On the heels of that was another statement: " _Mojo be damned. Earth is my domain and so is your creation. Here, he entertains_ me _."_ And there was only chilling laughter that followed the boast, echoing down into the weakened crumbling corridors of thought.

Cable pulled out of that chaotic mind with a start, his face frankly stunned. It wasn't an expression Domino saw in her lover very often. "What was it, Nate? What did you see?"

He jumped to his feet. "I have to go to Cerebro. Get some data on just who this fucker is," he snarled.

"Who did this to 'Star?" Dom demanded.

"The Gamesmaster," Nate called over his shoulder and left the infirmary practically at a run.

" _Who?!"_ Shatterstar asked in confusion when he woke up a few hours later.

Cable repeated patiently, "You were attacked by the Gamesmaster."

The trio were in the room with the curtains pulled across the observation window and the audio and cameras off. By now word had spread that 'Star had suffered some sort of injury in the Danger Room and X-Force was outside of the room waiting impatiently for some kind of report. None of the members were people who took the waiting game well.

'Star looked understandably confused. "I do not remember our battling that foe."

"We didn't," Domino said. The usual chalk-color of her face held a rare touch of pink to her cheeks. It was clear she was brilliantly furious by this cowardly attack on one of their own.

"Then ... why was I singled out?"

"Because you're unique," Cable told him. "Because of your former status as a slave of Mojo. The Gamesmaster is an omniopath and a megalomaniac. He sees people as playthings to manipulate. Nothing more, nothing less. You caught his attention in New York simply by chance."

"What has he done to me?"

"I'm not entirely sure. It appears that he's embedded another consciousness within your own."

"To what end?"

The fact that Cable, of all people, appeared upset by this senseless act of violence spoke volumes. "To watch you suffer. He is so far removed from human kind that inflicting pain in others is the only things that amuses him anymore. Within you lies the spirit of a noble warrior and he implanted the antithesis of such a character just to watch you struggle."

"Make it stop," 'Star said in an unsteady voice.

"Shatterstar, I don't think I can."

"You're a telepath!" The youth shouted in desperation. "Go into my mind and rip that presence out!"

"I'm not Charles Xavier. I don't have the ability or the skills. The Gamesmaster is stronger than I am. His powers are augmented through artificial means. Until this runs its course, there's little I can do except support you through the worst of it."

"I am a puppet for the amusement of another. Again," 'Star said in dismay, sitting up in bed and swinging his legs around to drop down to the floor. "I'm not free after all. I ... I just traded ownership." He gave his head a brisk shake, wincing in pain from the act and whispered, "Unacceptable."

"Shatterstar-"

"If there is nothing you can do than I wish to leave. I want to go to my room."

"Perhaps if would be best if you stayed here where we can keep-"

"Fuck's sake, I'm an adult! Hospital rooms remind me of shrinks and prick doctors!" 'Star snapped, lapsing into that Boston persona. From what little Cable and Domino had seen of it, they didn't like it very much, which had probably been the point of placing that rude consciousness in 'Star's orderly mind to begin with. Chaos made for great entertainment. "You're gonna let me go or _else_."

Looking past the bluster, Cable could sense the exhaustion in the teenager. He nodded to Domino who opened the door for him. Standing outside of the study were all the members of X-Force. Struggling with his composure, the alien pushed his way past them without explanation. Several of the members were going to follow him until Cable called the team into the room. The door was closed again and, in private, they were told what was happening to one of their own.

Shortly after that, Theresa, Tabitha, James, Caliban, and Roberto were standing in the hallway outside of 'Star's quarters.

"This is messed up," Tabitha commented. "Cable's been seriously dropping the ball with us lately. He's a telepath. How come he never knew Feral was going to go batshit crazy? How didn't he notice that 'Star was falling to pieces? We all suspected something was up with him. Why didn't he?"

"Cable's got a lot on his mind. 'Sides, ye know how 'Star's keeps personal shite all t'himself," Theresa murmured, staring at the door. "Look, he's probably tryin' t'get some sleep. We shouldn't be here."

"Caliban agrees with X-friends," the huge grey mutant said nervously. "Caliban senses changes in friend-Star. Not good ones. Sometimes he isn't friend-Star at all. Sometimes he's someone else. Someone _bad_."

"Oh, that's great," Tabitha murmured. "I swear, if I ever meet this Gamesmaster shithead, I'm gonna shove a bomb so far up his ass, his head'll explode."

"I'll even hold him down for you," Roberto said.

"Look, Cable told us that we should keep a close eye on 'Star. I think he's right." Jimmy took a deep breath and stepped forward, knocking on the door. "Yo, Shatterstar? Hey man, you wanna go out for pizza? My treat."

"Really?" Bobby asked brightly.

"Him, not you," he mouthed with a smirk, pressing his ear to the door. "Huh. I don't hear any- Wait a minute, I think I hear a humming sound."

Roberto immediately cocked his head up in alarm. "Humming? Kind of like a buzz?"

"Yeah, it's really weird-"

He pushed him out of the way. "He's powering up. That's what it sounds like!" he said and kicked in the door.

Shatterstar looked over at them in fury at the interruption. He was kneeling in the center of the room, dressed in his original Mojoverse white uniform and wearing his padded gladiatorial helmet. _"I die free!"_ he screamed and plunged his double-bladed sword into his chest just as Siryn launched her sonic attack.

It was close either way you looked at it. If they had arrived sooner, they might have been able to prevent the suicide attempt entirely. Any later, and 'Star would have been too powered up for them to stop it. As things were, Siryn's timing with her scream and Shatterstar's urgency to complete the task made the wound extremely serious, but not fatal. He missed his heart by an inch.

"He'll recover," Domino told the group after they got him settled back down in the infirmary. He was tied down to the bed with padded restraints and deliberately sedated with McCoy's special concoction so that his healing factor could make repairs. Because of his compromised, weakened state, it had taken a long time for the bleeding to stop. There was an oxygen mask over his mouth to assist with breathing. He looked somehow diminished lying in the bed like that; his skin deathly pale. Even the color of his hair seemed dulled under the harsh glow of the fluorescents.

"Sure," Tabitha muttered, staring at her ailing friend through the observation window. "Sure he will, but what about next time? What happens when he does it again and finally gets it right?"

"There won't be a next time," Dom said firmly.

" _'I die free'_. You all heard him say it. He won't let that Gamesmaster prick play with him like that. He treasures his freedom because he was a slave for so long. To him, suicide's a noble way out of this whole mess." She thumped her forehead against the glass. "We've gotta find a way to help him before it's too late."

"We will. Cable's going to try to unravel some of the tampering while he's unconscious. I've got some feelers out about Gamesmaster. We'll get to the bottom of this, kids. I promise."

Roberto watched as Theresa pulled out her cell phone and began dialling. "Who're you calling, Terry?"

"Who d'ye think?" she said, putting the phone to her ear.


	15. Short-lived Reunion

Shatterstar never crawled in through the broken window of some stranger's basement to steal a collection of CDs to pawn for a quick buck. He never endured the rough pecking order of a homeless shelter where a kick to the nuts was as close as he was ever going to get to a handshake. He never had to shiver on a street corner in the middle of winter hoping that his next John's car had a decent heater. He never drank to excess, smoked pot, or snorted cocaine.

Benjamin Russell, it seemed, had done _everything_.

Forced into the equivalent of a medicinal coma by McCoy's sedative, 'Star had no choice but to endure these alien memories as if they were his own. Most of the circumstances were far beyond his present level of Earth comprehension. He did not understand the motivations of the actions he witnessed except that most seemed rooted in a basic need for survival, which was about the only thing he could recognize. The rest was nonsensical torture. Just as he would start to claw himself out of that nightmare and let some sense of self resurface, he would hear voices around him;

"-not healed yet. I don't want to risk-"

"-best to keep him sedated to see if Cable can-"

"-out of your mind? _¡_ _Por el amor de Dios!_ How is this gonna do any-"

At first, he could not understand the words. Then, each voice began to become an identity he could just about grasp. Before realization could dawn, the sensation of heat in his arm would happen again and the voices would fade to garbled nonsense. He was back in that place of theft, abuse, and self-destruction. Trapped there for what seemed like _years_.

It was small wonder that when he finally achieved consciousness again, he didn't know where he was. _When_ he was. It even took time for him to remember _who_ he was. He bided his time, falling back on his warrior skills of endurance and patience, waiting for the disorientation to pass. Eventually, the surroundings came into sharper view and finally became recognizable. He was in the infirmary at the X-mansion. The room was painted a neutral tan and the side wall was the mirrored surface of a one-way observation window. He could see his reflection; lank hair, pale of face, and restrained to the bed like some invalid. _Fekt._

He noticed someone else was in the room and rolled his head over to the right. Rictor was sitting beside him. The Mexican's hair was cut shorter than when he'd left and his face was deeply tanned. He was wearing a faded jean jacket over a T-shirt that had the image of a rattlesnake on it. His lower jaw was dark with at least several days of untended stubble. He was staring down at his friend with clear concern in his dark brown eyes, struggling to smile. "How're you feeling, 'Star?"

Shatterstar looked away, muttering, "You are not real."

Rictor stared at him for a few seconds then hauled off and gave him a good hard slap.

" _Ky!"_ 'Star shouted in surprise, looking back at him in shock.

"Still think I'm not real?" Rictor said and suddenly lost it. " _What the fuck's going on with you?!_ I get a call outta the blue from Siryn telling me you tried to off yourself. You promised me you weren't gonna do any more stupid shit! _We had a deal!_ "

"Circumstances changed. You don't know-"

"About Gamesmaster? Yeah, I was told what that prick did to you. You've been dealing with this shit for weeks. Why didn't you ever call me?"

"I did! Four times! On the last, some strange man told me to go fuck myself! Why didn't _you_ call?"

"I did! I kept getting some dick named Bishop who said he was in charge of mansion security! He refused to take my messages."

The two stared at each other, stunned, and then shouted at each other at exactly the same time: _"¡Si serás!"_

"You have a remarkable bedside manner, Rictor," Cable remarked, stepping into the room with Domino behind him. "You should start visiting senior citizens."

"Whaddya mean 'start'? Don't you count?"

Cable's lips twitched in amusement. He looked down at Shatterstar. "I'm going to undo the restraints. Do I have your word that you won't do anything stupid?"

"Too late for that," Rictor muttered under his breath.

"Yes," 'Star said, and sat up in the bed when the buckles were loosened and his arms freed. He rubbed his wrists and stared at his team leader. "You could not remove Ben Russell from my mind?"

"No," Cable said, staring at him gravely. "The memories are invasive and completely entwined around your own. The Gamesmaster has set up mindbombs rigged to detect any outside manipulation. If I set one off while trying to remove the Russell persona, it could cause a domino effect; unleashing all of the memories at once instead of just the random occurrences that are currently happening."

'Star lapsed into thought while the other three discussed the matter. Rictor acted as his voice, far more impassioned and theatrical than 'Star could ever hope to be. "What? So ... that's it? That's all you gotta say? 'Grin and bear it'? Are you freakin kidding me?"

"There's nothing else I can do but make Shatterstar as comfortable as possible. This will have to work itself through to its conclusion. Only the Gamesmaster knows how it will end."

"How long are we talking about here?" the Hispanic asked. "Weeks? ... _Months?_ " Beside him, the alien released a despondent moan at the prospect.

"It's about entertainment. And suffering," Cable said, staring directly at the young Mojoworlder with troubled eyes. "As long as you put on a show, he'll keep focusing on you. I imagine that suicide attempt really made his day."

'Star glowered back. "I will _not_ be used like this. Your restraining me down here has only delayed the inevitable."

"Your swords are sealed in the Vault, kiddo," Domino said. "We're not going to let you pull any more stupid shit."

"The swords focus my power. Not prevent it. Do you know what will happen if-when I use it again without my weapons as a conduit?" He fixed her with a level glare. "Buzz. Boom. _Splat_. Same end, just messier."

Julio gripped his shoulder and shook it to get his attention. " _¿Qué pedo?_ _Me estás cabreando!"_

_"¡Déjame en paz!_ _No quiero volver a verte jamás!"_

_"_ _No me chingues? Te voy a romper el orto!"_ Julio shouted, slamming one glowing fist into the other and making a small concussive 'boom' to show off his intent.

" _¡_ _CALLAR!_ _"_ Cable bellowed at them, slamming his techno-organic hand against the wall to grab their attention. "Rictor, Theresa called you down here so that you can help 'Star. This kind of bullshit staturing isn't accomplishing a damned thing."

"You're right, Cable," Rictor murmured. "Sorry."

"Fuckin dumbass wetback," 'Star mumbled under his breath.

"What? _What'd you just say?!_ " Rictor cried and Domino managed to grab his arm before he took a swing.

"It's the Ben Russell persona. He lapses," Dom explained to him. "He's not even aware he's doing it."

'Star rubbed his forehead and stared over at Julio, clearly confused by the look of bright anger in his best friend's face. Realizing that, Rictor's shoulders slumped and he turned to Cable. "He can't go on like this. Nobody could. What happens if you trip one of those mindbombs you talked about?"

"The tower of memories cascade all at once. His consciousness would be swamped by the rogue persona."

"You're saying he-he would _become_ Ben Russell?"

"That appears to be the ultimate goal of this tampering. To gradually erase his dominant personality and watch him suffer as he degrades."

" _¡_ _Joder!"_ Ric shouted.

"Wait a moment, Julio. What you said ..." 'Star's red brows furrowed in thought. "The objective of what's been done to me is to draw this process out for the Gamesmaster's amusement, yes? In all probability, a long period of suffering. Perhaps triggering a quick immersion of this consciousness over my own will lessen his interest and force him to release me faster."

Cable looked at him as if considering the idea while Rictor shook his head. "No way! What if that prick decides he likes what he sees and decides to keep you like that? You prepared to spend the rest of your life as some powerless asshole?"

"I cannot live as I am, Julio," Shatterstar said quietly. "The strategy is sound. I am prepared to take that risk."

 _But I'm not,_ Julio almost said aloud, his hands clenching into glowing, vibrating fists. It was 'Star he had come back to see, Gaveedra he cared for, and he wasn't sure he could stand to see his best friend replaced by some deviant, insolent punk. "Cable, you can't go along with this. He's not in his right mind. He's-"

"He's right," Domino spoke up, placing an affectionate hand on 'Star's head and staring down at him sadly. "You know what you're asking?"

'Star took a deep breath and nodded. "I do."

Cable came up beside the bed. "Ric, you can leave if you-"

"Not a chance," Rictor said, grabbing one of 'Star's hands. "I ain't going no where."

"Thank you, Julio," 'Star whispered.

Rictor was struggling to find the right words to say with Cable and Domino standing beside him, both knowing Spanish. Outside of the room, James was probably hanging on every word with his super hearing. He wanted to say how much he cared for the other teen, how badly he wanted to kiss him again, hold him. All he could mutter was, "No problemo, Gav. Everything's gonna be okay, you'll see."

"This is going to hurt," Cable said, wasting no time on subtly or small talk. "Do you want to be sedated?"

"No. I have slept enough. Just do it, Nathan," the Mojoworlder said. His face was surprisingly composed for the ordeal ahead, but his hand clasped Julio's with panicky urgency, betraying his fear. Rictor squeezed back.

Cable entered Shatterstar's mind again and stood in front of that knot of gnarled memories. His trained eyed tracked the fine spider web of tripwires that zigzagged through the mess without rhyme or reason, connected to imbedded mindbombs of varying severity. If he did this wrong, he might do worse than collapse the delicate house of cards; he might wind up lobotomizing the teen instead. As he carefully considered his best approach, he tripped some sort of imbedded sensor and received a blaze of cautionary static across his astral form along with a warning: * _You have no business here. This mind is mine. Leave. Now.*_

Nathan set his jaw and created a fireman's axe in his ethereal hands. * _The boy belongs to no one.*_ he said and started chopping.

'Hurt' had to have been one of Cable's most poignant understatements of the century. 'Star gripped his head and screamed, a cry that neither Rictor nor Domino had ever heard from him before. At the sound of it, Roberto kicked open the door and the rest of the team rushed into the small room in a concerned, anxious group. All except for Caliban, who stood out in the corridor, moaning and trembling.

"What're ye doin'?" Theresa shouted in dismay. "Och, what's happening t'him?!"

Blood burst from 'Star's nose in a flood and he arched his back, screaming in agony until he suddenly went into convulsions. Rictor was too shocked and horrified to do anything but stare. It took both Roberto and James to successively hold 'Star down to the bed until he finally went still. He panted raggedly, looking up at the ceiling, trembling, bloody, and soaked in sweat. "I don't think-" he started saying in a hoarse voice and slumped unconscious.

Cable came back to his senses a few seconds later. He folded his arms and stood in place, staring down at the prone teenager on the bed.

" _Well-?!"_ Rictor snapped impatiently.

"I believe that got the Gamesmaster's attention," was all he would say of it.

X-Force was informed of what had happened and the members volunteered to keep a bedside vigil over the unconscious alien until they could discern his emotional state when (if) he finally woke up. Of all of the teammates only Caliban refused to volunteer. The huge, simple-minded mutant was unable to articulate his fear of the other teenager and Cable excused him, privately heeding the warning the former-Morlock was exhibiting with his obvious anxiety. "That goes for you, too, Julio," he said when it looked like the Mexican wasn't going to budge from his friend's bedside. "You've been down here two days straight and you need some rest."

"He's in good hands," James assured him.

"Aye," Theresa said.

Tabitha added, "We'll tell you when there's any change, Ric."

"Thanks guys," Rictor said, running a hand through his lank hair. He'd barely slept since he'd gotten the call in Mexico and that had been four days ago. He stepped out of the room and was almost half-way down the hallway when he felt the presence enter in his mind. He actively tried to bring up that wall of static to guard his thoughts but he was too tired, too stressed out. * _Get outta my head, Cable._ *

* _Rictor, you don't have anything to worry about. I know._ *

Ric turned around and glared at him.

_*I know that you're gay-*_

"NO, I'M NOT! I-!" It took tremendous concentration to keep this exchange private. * _I-I don't- I-*_ He swallowed and dropped his face in shame. _*I don't want to be. I don't. I-I really don't!*_

_*Julio, it's alright. You never had to leave. I'm an asshole, but I'm not insensitive. We could have talked about this. We still can.*_

_*Not now. Not ... ever. Dios, I really don't want to deal with this right now. I'm tired!*_

_*I know, but there's still the matter of Shatterstar.*_

Rictor winced. _*Look, we ... fooled around a little, but I heard about him and Feral. I think he's y'know, okay.*_

_*... Perhaps, but the Ben Russell persona is different. He's openly gay.*_

"Oh, this just keeps getting better and better," the Hispanic grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

_*Shatterstar knew this but never told us. I went to the police precinct where the team had been interrogated and tried to get the Russell arrest file from Detective Jones. It was gone. Some other Gamesmaster ploy I suspect, but Jonesy told me what she remembered of his juvenile record. Drug use, burglary, assault, ... and prostitution.*_

_*_ _Híjole!_ _Are you serious?*_

_*The Russell kid was a runaway and homeless for years.*_

_*What're you saying, Cable? That Russell is a real person that Gamesmaster shoved into 'Star's head?"_

* _I think he is, or was. What I'm trying to say is that he might be fixated on you because of your familiarity-*_

 _*'Familiarity.'*_ Ric snorted.

_*I just want you to be careful. Caliban is terrified of Russell and I don't know why. If you can keep him in check if he becomes 'active', it might be a good thing-*_

_*Whaddya want me to do? Blow him?*_ Rictor asked in disgust. _*'Star's my friend. Not Russell. I'll do what I can to put up with him but I'm not making any promises. You got that?*_

 _*At this point in time, it's all I can ask for_ ,* Cable said honestly.* _Thank you.*_

"Can I go to my room now?" Ric said wearily and just as Cable was about to open his mouth he turned and walked away. He heard in his head, _*Glad to have you back_ ,* but didn't respond to it, even if his throat did tighten up a little.

James, Theresa, Roberto, and Tabitha elected to take turns every two hours to keep an eye on Shatterstar while he was unconscious. When it was Tabitha's time to take watch, she sat beside the bed and considered the alien lying prone under the sheet. He had lost weight from his ordeals and his skin, always naturally pale, had taken an unhealthy yellow pallor. Too much blood loss, too little food. Domino had fixed an IV drip to try and compensate for the extreme dehydration. Tabby noticed a cup beside the bed and went into the bathroom to fill it. Maybe she could coax him to drink a little. She hated feeling helpless. She liked 'Star. They both had rough backgrounds (hell, all of X-Force did except Bobby, who was a rich brat), and seemed to have found some common ground over the last few months. Two times he had gone to bat for her and she just felt like she was dropping the ball.

She paused to splash some cold water on her face and considered her reflection, running a hand through her short hair. Sam had only seen it once; wrapped up with his duties with the X-Men, but he hadn't liked the change. She wondered how his battle against Onslaught was going. She wondered if he was even still alive. The thought brought tears to her eyes and she sat on the rim of the tub and collected handfuls of toilet paper and sobbed. For Sam, for her, for her father who had been badly injured in the attack by Shaw and Holocaust. For Shatterstar, who'd had the simple bad luck of being at the worst place at the worst possible time and became the plaything of a sadist. _Haven't they all suffered enough?_

She stayed in the room until she'd composed herself and then washed her face again. She was grateful for the mirrored sunglasses she always wore; her mascara had run and she looked like a raccoon. Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile on her face and opened the door. "Let's see if I can get you to drink some-" She stopped dead in her tracks and dropped the glass in shock.

The bed was empty.

* * *

James was leaving the games room and caught hint of a heavenly aroma in the air and tracked it all the way to the kitchen, finding Rictor at the sink washing dishes. "By the Great Spirit, does my nose deceive me? Is that your World Famous Mexican Casserole you've got in the oven?"

Ric flashed him a strained smile. "When I heard from Cypher that all anyone's gotten for a meal since Cable and Domino took over is Mac n Cheese and Hamburger Helper, I knew I had to step in."

James bent down to look in the oven window and practically drooled in anticipation. They'd all taken turns at cooking duties at Camp Verde. It was kind of funny that the worst cooks of the team had been the girls, although Tabitha could bake if she followed a recipe closely. Ric prepared the best meals of the bunch, simplifying Mexican recipes he'd learned as a kid. Roberto used to watch his family's chef and had picked up a few high-end culinary dishes. James was more of a barbeque cook and enjoyed flipping hamburgers and steaks on a grill. Shatterstar had proven to be the surprise (as usual). He watched cooking shows as much as any other television fare and seemed to absorb any and all visual input regardless of genre. When his day to cook rolled around, he simply watched a particular episode and replicated the recipe, even altering it when their food stocks didn't have all the necessary supplies. "Hey, do you remember that chili 'Star made at Verde?"

"How could I forget? It was the best I ever had," Julio said, smiling fondly. "The only thing that bugged me is that he never told us what he used for the meat. I know damned well we were out of ground beef at the time."

"I know what he used," James said with a grin.

"Yeah? What was it?" Rictor suddenly caught himself. "Hold on, maybe I don't wanna know. Jeez, at least tell me it wasn't rat!"

"You've got three letters right. Rattlesnake."

Julio's eyes got very round. "No shit!"

"Seriously. He went out hunting and got three of them. Got bitten a couple of times, too, though his healing factor just shook it off. The only reason he told me was because he wanted to know if it was some sort of 'revered animal to my people', since it was my reservation we were on. I said no, I'd eaten snake before. I showed him how to skin them and prepare the meat. Then it went into the pot. Damned tasty."

Rictor laughed and shook his head.

James grabbed a chair and turned it around, straddling the backrest. If Julio didn't know better it looked like the big Apache was guarding the oven in the hopes of getting the first helping. "It's good to see you, Ric, even if the circumstances are screwed up. 'Star's been acting loopy ever since you left. Even before the Gamesmaster messed with his head."

"Yeah, I heard some it from the others," Ric said. He finished with the dishes and wiped the counter down, and then he went to sit by his teammate. "Looks like you and Bobby called it. Him and Feral, huh? I still can't wrap my brain around it." That was the truth, although Ric wasn't sure if he was feeling jealousy or simple curiosity at this point. It actually all sounded kind of funny, especially the part about being caught in the act by Wolverine. Julio hoped that 'Star would turn out to be all right just so he could tease him about it.

"I get the feeling he and Cable had a falling out over it. He left the team right after that."

"Really? This is the first time I've heard this."

"That was how he ended up in New York, right before Shaw and Holocaust nailed us. He was acting twitchy before that anyway, even before the gay talk"

Rictor looked at him as if he hadn't heard him right (or hoped he didn't). "... The _what?_ "

James stared back at him gravely. "Look, Ric, I know that the two of you are best friends. Me and Bobby knew you were never gonna bring it up with him so we drew lots. I got the short straw. Hell, if that whole thing with Feral hadn't happened the conversation might have turned ugly. I really lucked out."

"What did you say to him?"

James shrugged. "It really doesn't matter anymore because he isn't. Thank god. I just told him that we all used to think he was gay, that's all."

All of the wind got knocked out of Julio as if he'd been sucker-punched. He couldn't have spoken even if he'd been capable of forming words.

"He was cool with it so don't worry," Jimmy continued, oblivious. "It's just like what I told Cable; 'Star knew some things about fags from watching the TV but he was still naïve about the majority of it. I just set him straight, pardon the pun, on how something like that would screw up the team dynamic. We've got enough freaks on the 'Force, am I right?" He leaned over and gave his friend a good-natured slap on the shoulder. "You should be relieved."

"... How d'ya figure?" Rictor asked weakly.

"C'mon man, you must have had your suspicions-"

" _He's fucking married, Jimmy!"_ Ric exploded, jumping to his feet and slamming his hands down on the table. His powers activated and made the heavy oak frame tremble on the floor. "He has a genetic bond-mate on Mojoworld! He was designed to be asexual until he reached a breeding age. _Eres un idioto!_ "

James backpedalled quickly, knocking over the chair. "How was I to know any of _that?_ The only ones he ever talked to was you or the girls."

"Small wonder! You accuse him of being gay and he quits the team the next day and you think it's because of _Cable?_ He's your teammate! How could you even say something like that to him? What gives you the right?"

Now it was James' turn to look stunned. While he stammered out a response, he released a shocked curse when Cable yelled into all of their minds: * _Everybody gear up and prepare for battle! We've got company!*_

James ran off to get into his uniform. Rictor spared a glance out of the window and, at first, didn't see anything wrong. Then a tank rumbled up the driveway to the mansion. It had obviously rammed the heavy front gate of the estate entrance. Behind it was a line of armored military vehicles. Flanking it were several Apache helicopters, all armed to the teeth.

With a sigh, Julio pulled on a pair of oven mitts and pulled the three large casserole dishes out of the oven in the hopes of salvaging them later. "Yeah, it's great to be back," he quipped as he left to join the rest of his crew.

* * *

Spanish translations:

Ric: "Por el amor de Dios!"- For the love of God!

Ric / 'Star: "¡Si serás!" - You dumb ass!

Julio: "¿Qué pedo?Me estás cabreando!" - What's your problem? You're pissing me off!

Star: "¡Déjame en paz! No quiero volver a verte jamás!" - Leave me alone! I don't want to see your face anymore!

Julio: "No me chingues? Te voy a romper el orto!" - Are you kidding me? I'm gonna break your ass!

Cable: "¡CALLAR!" - SHUT UP!

Ric: "Joder!" – Fuck!

\- "Híjole!"- Jeez! (Gee whiz)

\- "Eres un idioto!" – You idiot!


	16. Benjamin Russell

G.W. Bridge was itching for a rematch and this time he felt brave enough to do it on mutant home soil. He directed his men to take positions in a horseshoe shape around the front of the mansion. All weapons were drawn when Cable, in full body armor, sauntered out of the front door carrying an Askani assault blaster bigger than a man's torso. Domino was beside him, wearing her gear with pistols strapped everywhere on her person; beneath her ribcages, her back, and both thighs. Behind them were the members of X-Force in full uniform. By now, the big African American had learned their names and power sets as they protectively flanked their two leaders: Meltdown (plasma bombs), Sunspot (solar powered fighter), Siryn (sonic scream), Caliban (mutant detector), Rictor (seismic generator), Warpath (super-powered bruiser), and some new addition, a woman he didn't know. The swordsman named Shatterstar was curiously absent and Bridge dispatched a few soldiers to watch their blindside just in case of an ambush. During the Scott Summers' rescue, the damage 'Star had created on board the S.H.I.E.L.D. heli-carrier against the Life Model Decoys and their communication network had been extreme.

The rest of the school's meagre compliment, maybe fifteen other mutants, were inside the mansion hiding. They didn't have the skill for a rumble and Cable was smart enough to know that. "I thought we cleared the air during our last meeting, G.W.," Cable told his former associate in a calm voice. "You're trespassing on private property."

The officer held up an officious piece of paper that had the president's seal on the lower left-hand corner. Cable looked entirely unimpressed by its appearance. "If you hand that to me all I'm gonna do is use it to wipe my ass." Beside him, Domino snickered.

G.W.'s face tightened up. "By order of Homeland Security and under the direction of Mutant Affairs I have a warrant that permits me to take every one of you into custody. Don't make this harder than it already is for me, Nathan."

The huge silver-haired man walked over to his former friend, well aware of the weapons trained on him. "You know that Xavier and the X-Men are gone. It's just my team and a handful of young kids. Why are you doing this?"

"Because I have to," the other man rumbled. "I'm following orders. That's what soldiers do. Once upon a time, you used to do the same."

"You're in the wrong here, G.W."

"Wouldn't be a first time."

While the two men argued, another teen stepped out of the front door to watch the scene. Roberto looked at him in surprise. "Shatterstar?"

The alien looked back at him curiously. He was wearing a black button-down shirt and a pair of bluejeans. His freshly washed hair was tied back in a ponytail. "Strike one," he said and walked down the stairs.

"'Star, ye shouldn't be here," Siryn hissed at him.

"Strike two," the youth calmly intoned.

"Ben Russell," Julio remarked and that earned him direct eye contact from the new arrival. 'Star's eyes seemed to be a darker shade of blue and there was frank surprise on his face that was usually so serious and guarded all the time. He broke out into a broad grin. "Nice job, Pedro. You get the prize."

"My name's Julio. Rictor to _you_."

'Star held his hands up in mocking self-defence, smirking.

"'Star- _Ben_ , you have to go back into the house," Tabitha said. "Leave this to us. It's what we're trained to do."

"Because you're big powerful heroes. Gonna protect us all. Is that right?" He was almost laughing for some strange reason.

"That's right!" Roberto snapped at him. "Stop distracting us and get back inside."

The alien didn't budge. He seemed content to stand beside the Hispanic, hands casually tucked into the front pockets of his jeans. He was looking at Julio's profile and it took all of the Mexican's willpower not to betray how much his close proximity was bothering him.

Cable and Bridge were starting to shout at each other and that was an indication that negotiations, if that was even what they could have been called in the first place, were quickly breaking down.

"How's this gonna end, you think?" 'Star asked Rictor, still looking far too relaxed for the grim circumstances. Julio figured he must still be in shock from what Cable had done to his mind.

"Badly," Ric mumbled. "Look at the firepower and personnel. We can't kill them. They're sanctioned government agents. Our backs are against the wall here and they know it. We'll have to rumble, but they'll probably still get what they came for."

"And what's that?"

"Us, dummy. They're gonna lock us in a cell and throw away the key!"

Anger surfaced on 'Star's face at long last. "Jails and fat fuck cops? Yeah, I don't think so."

"Great. You want to help? Go grab a handful of rocks. Otherwise, back off and leave the fighting to us!" Jimmy said, having heard enough.

The youth backed away, casting him a particularly resentful glare.

Cable was doing the same thing to his former associate. "I warned you, G.W. Whatever happens next is on your conscience," he said, walking back to his team.

"Don't try to pass that crap off on me. I gave you the chance to surrender peacefully." He gestured at his men who ringed the front entrance and they clicked off the safeties to their automatic rifles.

" _Peacefully!_ Trespassing and kidnapping are still against the law, no matter how pretty the bow you're trying to tie around it!" Cable shouted back.

"I have a warrant-"

" _Screw your warrant!"_

"Christ, alla this macho bullshit is givin' me hemorrhoids," 'Star grumbled from where he was sitting on one of the steps. "Yo, Pedro! Picture a place in your head!"

"I told you. My name's Rictor, asshole." He spared the redhead a confused glance. "What the hell are you talking about anyway?"

"You said you don't wanna kill these guys, right? I'll play along. I suggest you think of a place fast before I change my mind."

Ric didn't have a clue what the teenager was saying but he and James had been talking about Camp Verde earlier and the memory of that favorite base came into clear focus in the Mexican's mind.

"That'll do," 'Star said for no reason any of them could quite figure out.

In the basement of the mansion, Cerebro- already monitoring the heightened power signatures of the majority of the mutants in the mansion- suddenly released a clarion indicating danger. Outside, standing beside Domino, Caliban released a sickly moan and whirled around. "No, friend-Star! Please do not-"

"Strike three," the alien said, and flashed him a cold grin. "Yer _out!_ "

"Last warning!" G.W. shouted, gesturing at the assault force.

 _*X-Force! Get ready!*_ Cable told them, shouldering his blaster.

" _FIRE!"_ Bridge screamed, dropping his arm the same time X-Force surged forward. At that exact second there was a brilliant, dazzling flash of light. The team stumbled forward a few steps when they realized that they weren't being attacked. All of the armed Special Forces soldiers, forty-eight men strong, just disappeared from the front lawn.

Bridge looked at the courtyard in confusion, seeing a curious half moon pattern of remnants that were the soldiers' combat boots. Siryn peered into one and suddenly turned away, retching. " _Och! My god!"_

A foot was still in its boot, bleeding from its severed stump, just the same as all of the other ninety-five boots left behind.

On the doorstep of the mansion Benjamin Russell, formerly Shatterstar of Mojoworld, burst out laughing. "I hope they weren't members of your squad's soccer team!" he cackled to G.W. while the other members of the team looked over at him in shock.

"What ... Oh god, what did you do?" Bridge tried to keep his voice level and failed.

 _That's a really good question_ , Cable thought, struggling to maintain his composure. He took a deep breath and cast a disproving glance over at Russell. "Where did you send them?"

"Ask him," Ben said, still sniggering and pointing at Rictor. "I plucked it outta his head."

Rictor looked stunned to be included in this conversation. "I was just thinking about Camp Verde. That's all I did!"

"Crap," Cable mumbled under his breath. He turned to Bridge. "That's in Arizona. The abandoned Apache Reservation. If you get help to them in time you might be able to save them from blood loss. You'd better hurry and call it in." He deliberately kept his voice gruff and impersonal; after all G.W. had invaded their home first, but the situation had spiralled completely out of control. Cable would have been content with wounding a couple of soldiers, perhaps even killing one or two, but not crippling all forty-eight men permanently just to prove a point. This was a severe black mark against X-Force that would be next to impossible to erase. The only positive of the mess was that Cable knew they would now be left alone indefinitely as S.H.I.E.L.D. considered the losses and would turn the blame to Bridge for not preparing a thorough threat assessment before moving in for his attack.

No one was more aware of those facts than Bridge, who knew his career was suddenly at an end. It was clear the officer had been expecting just about any other kind of outcome but this one. The swiftness and sheer brutality of what just happened innerved him beyond words. He stared at the redhead and shouted: "Why-why'd you do that? Why cut off their feet? _Why cripple them like that?!"_

The humor immediately dried up on Ben's face, if it had ever been there to begin with. "Hey, I could'a just taken off their goddamned heads instead. Would that'a made you happy? Maybe now you'll think twice before you go poking your nose into places where it don't belong. Take your warrant and fuck off." He made a back-handed gesture and there was another blaze of light that made everyone shield their eyes. By the time their vision cleared, Bridge had disappeared, along with all of the armoured vehicles including the helicopters. Even the severed feet were gone.

"Who knows?" Ben remarked lightly, getting up from where he was sitting. "Maybe they can sew their feet back on. Now, what the hell do I smell coming from the kitchen? I'm starved!" He continued talking to himself as he walked back into the house.

Tabitha looked at the remains of the tire tracks in the yard and the blood splatters on the grass and released a low whistle. "Wow," she said, smiling. Of the entire team, she was the only one who appeared impressed by events. The others simply looked stunned and horrified.

"Oh god, Nate ... What the hell just happened here?" Domino was far too stunned to use their mutual rapport.

"I honestly don't know," Cable admitted, and that was rare.

Three hours later, Ben had a full stomach and was lounging in a recliner as Cerebro performed a thorough scan on him. For all of the drama of the afternoon, the teenager looked strikingly self-satisfied about his conduct during the short-lived 'invasion'. Almost smug. He was being completely cooperative as Cable conducted his investigation but that mood could change on a dime. The leader wanted to be prepared for just about anything if/when that happened.

While he waited for the results to come in, he sat in the control room and watched Julio and the newly-assertive Ben persona bicker back and forth. The other members of X-Force hung uneasily in background, all present except for Caliban. The former Morlock refused to be in the same room as Russell. Just as Cable had suspected, Ben was drawn to Ric, no doubt prompted by 'Star's memories and whatever else the two had gotten up to before the Mexican had quit the team. Driven by his own attraction and closeness, Rictor simply couldn't abandon his friend during this crisis. Their banter drifted over the speakers;

" _-good meal. You can really cook, Pedro."_

" _For the last fuckin time, my name's Rictor! You call me 'Pedro' again I'm gonna start calling you Clifford."_

" _Clifford?"_

" _Yeah, from that kid's show about the Big Red Dog. Or, in your case, the Tall Redheaded Dick."_

" _Screw you, Pedro."_

" _Right back atcha, Clifford."_

"It's almost like old times," Domino remarked while Cable turned the volume down. "I wish Rictor had never left. It might have changed what happened to 'Star."

"Julio left because of me," Cable said, staring down at the monitor, lost in thought. "Me, and my piss-poor approach to leading this team."

Domino sighed. Cable had told her about his conversation with James Proudstar and the topic that was becoming known as the infamous 'gay talk' the other teen had with Shatterstar. Neither leader had known how to deal with the particular issue of sexuality with the group without the real reason behind the lecture coming out. This wasn't a comical sex education lesson involving condoms and bananas. This involved something deeply, intensely personal and both adults were genuinely floundering on how to best approach it. As long as Rictor was away, Cable had been able to avoid dealing with it. But now the teen was back and, with Ben Russell's personality now the dominant one, that meant X-Force suddenly had two gay members to deal with. It was such a rare occurrence among mutants that there was no kind of support structure in place to help the situation. James' prejudice was a clear problem. Possibly Roberto as well.

"Rictor panicked when I brought up the idea of the group psi-link. He thought I was going to find out and-and, I guess, think I was going to ridicule him or kick him off the team or something. And Shatterstar refused to bring anything up about it because he didn't want any suspicion directed towards Rictor. Hell, he ended up quitting to protect him."

"You don't think there was anything else behind him doing that?"

Cable threw up his hands in frustration. "How the hell do you classify the sexual orientation of a bioengineered alien from a future dimension? He was originally paired with a female on Mojoworld. He shacked up with Feral. That suggests straight behaviour. But he clearly has a bond with Rictor that goes beyond friendship. Even Julio admitted that they 'fooled around', whatever that means to the kids these days. I'm out of the loop."

"It means he's bisexual." Domino said bluntly. "Being an alien, that makes him omnisexual actually."

"You're making that shit up," Cable rumbled.

"Nope. I learned it watching Torchwood. That Jack Harkness is a serious hottie."

"Dom ... stay focused here."

"We can't be the first team to deal with something like this, Nate. Wasn't there someone from that group Wolverine associated with who turned out to be gay?"

"You mean that French-Canadian prick Northstar? I thought he was a fairy?"

"Oh, real mature, Nate-"

"No seriously. Last I heard, he was supposed to be linked to some Asgardian Elf race*."( _Read End note)_

Domino lapsed into rare silence. "Wow," she said in a low stunned voice. "We sure do encounter some seriously screwed up shit, don't we?"

Cable offered a slow, weary nod. Just as he was about to speak, there was a low buzz from the console and Cerebro began printing off its analysis of Russell. Cable read the data, frankly marvelling at what he saw and eventually joined his team in the main room. He looked at Ben. "You're an Offensive Jaunt."

"You're pretty offensive yourself, old timer," Ben shot back.

"Shut up, Clifford," Rictor said absently. "Cable, what's that mean? I've never heard it before."

"Me either," Siryn said.

"It's a teleporting ability used offensively as a weapon. You can send anything anywhere and it doesn't look like you have limits in the amount of mass you can transport."

"Kind of like Lila Cheney," Tabitha said.

"Not quite. You can't transport yourself, can you?"

Ben simply looked back at him with an annoying little smirk on his face that Cable was beginning to really dislike. "You tell me."

"I don't think you can. You'd probably be gone by now if you could. There's something else. When you transport, you need someone else to picture a destination. The power involves some sort of telepathic link. That's why you had Rictor think of Camp Verde."

"Yeah, that reminds me? Why pick on me?" Ric asked indignantly.

"I could'a plucked it out of anyone's mind. You were just closest, ya crybaby. And I don't need a destination. I could'a sent those pricks straight to nowhere and made 'em disappear. I just figured you wanted 'em alive," Russell explained, adding a shrug. "Wouldn'ta made any difference to me one way or the other."

"You've killed with this ability before." It was not a question. Cable crossed his arms, expecting an answer.

"Can't charge me for a crime if you can't find a body," came the evasive reply. "But it was in self-defence. I'm not a psycho."

"Could have fooled me," Roberto said. "You cut off those guys' feet and just laughed about it." Beside him, James and Theresa nodded.

"Hey! Those assholes were armed and had orders to kill us. I just nailed 'em first. 'Sides, I haven't been able to use the power in a long time. It felt good to cut loose for a change, that's all."

"How is that even possible?" Siryn asked in confusion. "Cable, ye warned us that the Russell consciousness might take over 'Star's mind, but how can his mutant power change like that?"

"Honestly, Theresa, I haven't a clue," Cable admitted. "I didn't even know the Russell persona was a mutant."

"Did 'Star know?"

"Nope." Ben said, inserting himself back into the conversation. "It all happened too fast. Poor bastard never even knew what hit him. Hurts like hell. I remember."

"You're a real personality, aren't you?" Domino asked in surprise. "You're not a construct of the Gamesmaster at all. You are, or were, a victim of his as much as Shatterstar is."

"That crazy fucker made me try to jaunt somewhere and it ended up killing me. My consciousness has been stuck in his mind ever since," Ben said unhappily.

"What's the last date you remember?" Cable asked.

When Russell told them, Tabitha said, "That was twenty years ago."

"If that's the case, then I look pretty good for a thirty-eight year old, huh?" He pulled up his shirt and slapped his stomach. "I mean, look at this six-pack, would'ja? Shit. It's actually an eight-pack."

"Don't get used to the body," Rictor told him. "You're not going to be in it for very long."

"That ain't up to you, or _you_." He pointed at Cable. "Not me or Starface either. We all know who's pulling the strings and it's up to _him_ how long I get to stay. Me, I plan on enjoying myself." He jumped down to the floor and stretched his muscles.

"Just remember that you're in the body of a friend," James told him. "Don't screw around with it."

An odd expression crossed Ben's face. With amazing speed, he crossed the room, knocking James against the wall and locked an arm against his neck to pin him in place. "I've gotta newsflash for you, chief. My name's Ben Russell and I'm _gay_." He moved forward and pressed his mouth against James in a kiss that had nothing to do with passion and everything to do with making a point. Everyone stared at the two in stunned amazement, even Cable and Domino stood riveted in place. Rictor had to bite down on his tongue to resist the urge to release a cheer.

James squirmed and shoved him away, furiously wiping his mouth. "Get offa me, you crazy f-!"

"Call me a fag and I'll jaunt you off at the knees!" Ben shouted at him. He pointed a finger at Roberto who had taken a step forward. "You're no better, buddy. Back off or you're goin' on a trip."

"'Star- _Ben!_ What the hell is going on with ye?" Siryn snapped.

"I've got all of Starface's memories in here with me. You've got a pair of homophobes on your crew, babe, him being the worst," Ben said, glaring at James who was blushing. "Christ, you're two kinds of minority, your tribe got wiped out, and you're gonna single _me_ out for being different? Who the fuck d'you think you are?"

Domino nudged Cable from behind. * _Looks like you just got your opening*_

 _*Thanks*_ he said with a mental sigh. "James, some of the comments you've made about homosexuals have been making the rounds. You've even said a few things to me that have caused me some serious concern. I've let it lapse because it wasn't an issue but now, with Ben Russell here, I need to know how you're going to deal with it. Roberto, this involves you, too. Rictor, pay attention." Julio looked at him sharply but he quickly understood why Cable was including him in the lecture and managed to keep his face neutral. "We deal with racism against mutants every single moment of our lives. I can't have any kind of bigotry on my team against a person just because they're different, and that includes the issue of sexual orientation. I want to believe that _all_ _of you_ are mature enough to be better than that."

Theresa was looking at James in an accusatory way that made him drop his eyes. She was thinking about her conversation with 'Star during their trip to New York, about how he had been having problems dealing with James and Bobby but would not say why.

James was thinking about all of the joking around he and Roberto had done when it was just guys together. The gay slurs, the derogatory remarks. He remembered what he had said to 'Star and, later that night, right to Cable's face. He had made comments to Caliban, who didn't understand. Rictor's response earlier that afternoon had completely blindsided him. Now, 'Star's new rogue personality was actually calling him out on it: James was a Native American and a mutant whose entire reservation of friends and family had been slaughtered, and yet here he was ripping apart another minority just because they preferred to date their own gender. It seemed pretty petty and stupid in the grand scheme of things. He rubbed the back of his neck and flashed glances over at Theresa. She was shaking her head in disappointment. Tabitha looked pissed off.

"Is this going to be a problem?" Cable pressed. "We don't know how long Russell is going to be here and we might all have to work together for awhile."

"No, Cable," James finally said. "It-it won't be a problem."

"Not for me either," Bobby mumbled. "It was just all dumb macho talk."

Julio was just left blinking over the sudden lecture. The irony of the situation was not lost on him. "I'm good," was all he could think of saying.

James looked over at Ben and awkwardly stuck his hand out. "No hard feelings?"

The other teen glowered at him and probably wouldn't have taken it until James added, "For what it's worth, thanks for not giving me tongue," and that seemed to kill the tension. Russell snorted and shook his hand. Roberto's too.

As they left the room, Julio was looking at Ben in a confused, suspicious way and it didn't help the Mexican's mood when the other teen flashed him a sly wink. He bided his time until an opportunity came up when they were both out in the back yard together. It was going on dusk and he spotted Ben sitting on top of a picnic table drinking a beer. He was alone, which wasn't much of a surprise. Except for Tabitha, who seemed to be relatively unfazed by this new aspect of 'Star's aberrant personality, the rest of the team was going out of their way to avoid him for now.

Rictor took advantage of the moment and stood in the shadows, considering the stranger who had replaced the mind of his best friend. Ben kept his long red hair tied back and his muscular body filled out his casual clothes in their usual attractive manner. It looked like he had lost some weight and muscle tone from his ordeals of the last few weeks, but he was still incredibly handsome. The main difference was his body language; no longer so guarded and tense all of the time. Ben Russell looked relaxed and comfortable in this body. Perhaps a little too much. Rictor sighed and cleared the distance between them. "When Wolverine finds out you're drinking his Molson stash, he's going to cut your balls off."

"I love this Canadian beer. It's got one hell of a kick, not that I can enjoy it thanks to Starface's stupid healing factor."

"He has a name," Ric said coldly. "Call him 'Star or Gav. Give him some damned respect."

Ben flashed him a curious stare as he took a pull from the bottle and tipped his head in understanding. "Okay. Sure."

"Why'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

"You made sure to draw James and Bobby's focus clearly on you. Why'd you do that?"

"You're not out. You're not even _close_ to comin out. I spared you the bother and Cable was smart enough to follow my lead. Long as you stay cool like you have been, you're safe to play it straight as long as you want. That's your business, not nobody else's." He made a face. "See, I came out when I was thirteen. My father beat the shit outta me and kicked me out of the house. Ever since then, I've ..." A strange expression crossed his face and he lapsed into sullen silence.

Rictor figured it was the subject matter and that suspicion was confirmed when Ben suddenly changed tracks with, "When I was a kid, the old man used to take me to ball games at Fenway Park. You ever been to Boston?"

"No," Rictor said, easing into the conversation. "But I watch the Boston news channel all the time. Last night as a matter of fact."

"Yeah? Any news segment catch your eye?" Ben asked in a curious voice.

"I remember a weather reporter was down near the New England Aquarium walking along the wharf. The waves were rough and he was getting soaked by spray. It was really kind of funny-"

"That'll do," Ben whispered, touching his head. The pair suddenly winked out of sight.

"-because I thought he was going to- _¡_ ¿ _Qué chingados?!_ " Rictor shouted and whirled around in shock. He just realized he was now standing on the HarbourWalk in the direct spot where the hapless reporter had been the night before. It was raining heavily and they were standing alone under a flickering deck light.

"It ain't home, but we're close," Ben said in strengthless, hoarse voice just as his legs started to buckle underneath of him. Rictor caught him before he could fall and pulled him over to a nearby bench.

"What did you do?" he asked, as the other youth struggled to marshal his wits. "Cable said you can't teleport."

"I can't. Not without a psychic anchor. I'm connected to you."

"Connected how?"

"Ain't it obvious?" Russell said and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N: When Northstar came out in 1992, it created such a backlash that spineless writers tried to rewrite his background to pass him off as being half-human, half-elf. No joke. That was Marvel Comics "back in the day".)


	17. Sexual Tension

_Offensive Jaunt._ Cable was reading Cerebro's data report and trying to figure out how he could incorporate that ability into his current roster. While Ben Russell no doubt retained Shatterstar's enhanced athleticism, he probably didn't have the ability to utilize those abilities in a combat situation. It was clear that 'Star's talents as a swordsman and fighter were now off the shelf. As the leader of the team, Cable had to make the decision whether the inclusion of Russell to the group would be an asset or liability. He was still on the fence about it when his communicator buzzed. "What is it?"

" _You have got to be just about the rudest culo on the phone I've ever met,"_ came the querulous voice in his ear.

"Rictor?" Cable asked in surprise. "Why are you calling? You could have contacted me mentally."

" _Yeah, well, I'm a little out of range for that."_

"Why? Where are you?"

" _I'M IN FUCKING BOSTON!"_ Rictor shouted into the payphone he found outside of the New England Aquarium. It was pouring heavily and close to ten o'clock at night. He was soaked to the bone and shivering. Nearby, Ben was sitting under the shelter of a bus stop and in no better shape. "Clifford used his power and transported us here."

"Screw you, Pedro," Ben muttered.

" _According to Cerebro, he shouldn't be able to do that."_

"Yeah, well, apparently it's different with me."

" _Why?"_

Rictor twisted his lips. "Because we're _'familiar'!_ "

It took a moment for Cable to process the meaning. _" ... Oh. Can he bring you back?"_

"Doesn't look like it. It's not like with those soldiers. That didn't seem to slow him down one bit. 'Porting himself seems to take the wind out of his sails. I think we're stuck here."

" _Do you want me to pick you up in the PACRAT?"_

"I don't know. That's kind of why I'm calling," Rictor dropped his voice, staring over at Russell who was sitting hunched over with his face in his hands. "I need some advice."

" _What's on your mind?"_

"I'm wondering if I shouldn't be following Russell's lead here. He seems to have some sort of unfinished business in Boston and wants to see it through. I'm not sure what to do."

" _I don't know, Rictor. I'm still not convinced this isn't all some part of Gamesmaster's ploy."_

"Oh, it probably is, but maybe that's the whole point. Maybe it all has to play out and this is where it's gonna happen. I don't think you can keep him confined to the mansion anyway. At least here I can keep an eye on him and see things through. Hopefully it won't take long and we'll get 'Star back in one sane piece."

" _Do you want the team there as back-up?"_

What that really translated to was: _Are you comfortable being alone with him?_ Rictor hesitated and looked over at Russell who raised his head and matched that stare. It was like the scene outside of the Limelight Nightclub all over again: 'Star looking anguished and miserable, with his wet hair hanging in his face. Only this time there was something more between them, something unresolved and primal. Something that made Ric's heart pound harder and his groin throb.

" _Julio?"_ Cable prompted in his ear.

"No, we'll be fine. Listen, my wallet and phone are still back at the mansion. Can you book us a couple of rooms at the nearest hotel? I know the mansion security's already traced this number. Call me back when you've made the arrangements. I'll be waiting right here."

Cable agreed and the two hung up. Rictor trotted over to the bus shelter and sat beside the other teen. "He'll call back with an address of a hotel when he's gotten us a couple of rooms."

Russell looked miffed. "We can share a room."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"What's the deal? We're both gay. We're single. I know you want me-"

"I want 'Star," Rictor said firmly. "I'm not going to use his body with you at the controls. It's not fair on him. If we're gonna hook up, we're going to do it when he's back in his right mind. And-and that's only if he wants us to."

"Man, you just don't get it. You think I'm going after you because I find you attractive? You're not even my type." Ben sneered. "I'm stuck in this body and you're the only thing buzzin' inside this guy's head: ' _Julio this, and Julio that'_. He was thinkin' about you even when he was screwin' his brains out with that crazy cat girl. He wants you _bad,_ man."

"You're just making that shit up to get laid."

"' _Te estraño'_ ," the redhead said, startling him. " _'Te estraño, Julio_.' That's all that kept repeating in this head until you finally came back. I don't speak Spanish. What's it mean?"

Rictor looked at him and then dropped his eyes. "It means, 'I miss you'," he whispered.

"Still think I'm making this shit up?"

"Doesn't matter. I'm still not going to sleep with you."

"Screw you, Pedro."

"Like I just told you, Clifford. Never gonna happen," Rictor said and had to smile at the resentful look the other teen gave him. He got the distinct impression that Ben wasn't used to being shot down.

They sat together in disgruntled silence for about the next ten minutes until the payphone started ringing and Cable was back on the line. After that it was a less than a ten minute walk up Atlantic Avenue to the Boston Marriot Long Wharf Hotel where arrangements for lodgings had been made for them. The Front Desk Clerk took a long, appraising look at the two soaked, dishevelled youths appearing at his counter and asked coldly, "Can I ... help you?"

Rictor, red-faced and fidgeting, coughed out: "Pedro Richter and Clifford Russell. We have reservations."

"Man, your boss has a really lousy sense of humor," Ben muttered under his breath.

"Tell me about it."

The Clerk cast them another resentful look and called the names up on the computer. His demeanour immediately changed. Not only were the two booked in side-by-side executive suites, they were to have all available amenities made available at their disposal. Everything had been prepaid with a Platinum No-Limit Charge Card. "Very good, young sirs. Do you have any luggage for the concierge to take up to your rooms?"

"No. We're travelling light," Rictor said, straight-faced.

They were given their keycards and on the way up in the elevator Rictor said, "This would all be new to 'Star. I guess I don't need to give you any warnings."

"No, I'm pretty used to motels. Especially ones that charge by the hour."

The Mexican looked at him uneasily for a moment. "It said on your police record that you were busted for prostitution. That true?"

"Yeah."

"How-how long ...?"

"Since I was fourteen."

"Madre de Dios," Rictor hissed.

Ben shrugged. "It was rough going at first. Smoking some reefer or snorting a few lines before a job made it a lot easier. I was too big and clumsy to be a thief. No education. Only thing I had going for me was my looks."

"Yeah, but your power-"

Ben snorted. "What about it? What good was it except to protect my ass when some psycho got too rough?"

The elevator settled on their floor and they walked out into a burgundy carpeted hallway and walked over to the doors of their suites. Rictor hesitated before sliding his card into the doorlock. "Look, Ben, I-"

"G'night, Pedro," the teen said briefly as he unlocked his door and went inside, slamming it shut and locking it after him.

Rictor sighed and let himself into his own suite. He immediately got out of his wet clothes and took a long hot shower, then lounged around in a supplied robe as he called for some nachos from room service. When the waiter showed up carrying a huge tray of munchies, the man took his wet clothes away to get laundered and dried. Lounging on the king-sized bed, eating his snack and watching pay-for-view, it was one of those rare times when Julio had to admit that maybe Cable wasn't such a dick after all. The silver-haired old bastard had really come through for him these last couple of days.

As the evening wore on, Ric tried not to think about the teen in the suite next door, but it was becoming impossible. This was such a crazy perfect set-up: Out of the mansion away from the prying eyes of teammates and mutants, housed in a spiffy upper-class hotel suite with a big ass bed and crisp clean sheets. Christ, there were even complimentary condoms in the bathroom! And here he was among it all. Alone. And he didn't have to be.

"Ay joder!" Julio moaned, flopping backwards on the bed. What the hell was he going to do? He rolled his head over and looked at the complimentary mini-bar. He sighed. It seemed as good an idea as any.

A couple of hours later, there was a litter of small liquor bottles scattered around the bed and Rictor was drunk off his ass. That was good, because he had begun debating going over to Ben's room, damn the consequences. Now that he was too loaded to find his feet, let alone walk on them, he couldn't do anything he would regret later. He wanted to kiss 'Star again, he wanted to hold his dick again, maybe even try sucking it. He wanted to know what fucking a guy would feel like, or how it would feel to get fucked. He wanted to try it all and it just about drove him crazy to know Ben was in the next room, willing and able to accomplish all of those crazy desires. But that was all part of the mixed up mess of it. It was Ben Russell. Not Shatterstar.

Thinking of his and 'Star's last liaison and those eager handjobs they'd given each other, Julio threw his robe to the floor and lay naked on top of the bed, running his hand back and forth along his erect member. During the act of jerking off, he actually fell asleep. It had been a rough couple of days for him, too little sleep and too much worry, and it finally caught up to him. His drunken dreams were sludgy and inconsistent, drifting back and forth with images of past battles, family conflicts, and conversations with teammates. Shatterstar made a few appearances across the tableau, strictly in G-rated format, and then Rictor was dreaming about the young whore in las zonas who had given him his first blowjob. He remembered how she had fastened her moist lips about his flaccid cock and drew the pliant meat into her mouth. How she had used her tongue to roll it about, flipping the yielding head from cheek to cheek while applying just enough suction to create an excited tightening in his balls.

He writhed on the bed and moaned, lost in that hazy memory of how his prick had responded to the hot wetness and gentle suction of the brunette's skillful mouth and flashing tongue. He swelled and hardened, the knob of his cock pushing further back into the woman's throat as she held her encircling lips clasped firmly about the base of his organ. Her head lifted slightly as the prick filled her throat. Slowly, keeping the pulsating knob trapped between tongue and palate, she began to pump her oral grip up and down the hard lance with expert skill.

Rictor reached down in his sleep to twine his fingers in the whore's hair. Instead of loose curls, his hands were enveloped in a familiar silky jungle of long red hair. He started pulling out of his dream even though the envelopment of his raging prick never stopped. That skillful mouth was sucking him with hot tugs, pausing to let the tongue lash at the pulsating helmet, the tip stiffening to stab at the slitted tip and lap up the oozing pre-come.

Raising his head a fraction, Julio saw that lightly glowing left eye poised over his crotch and slammed his head back into the pillow. Moaning in pleasure, he increased his grip on the intruder's head, bucking his hips up into that oral engulfment until he came with a harsh grunt, spurting his ropy semen into that gulping throat until he was drained.

While he lay sated and panting, that larger body came up along side of him and pulled his mouth close for a deep kiss. Rictor tasted his own come and let his tongue lick and search that delicious hot cave for more, letting it awaken a desire to reciprocate. "Me estás volviendo loco. Yo quiero tu verga," he gusted into that mouth. "Te quiero mammar la verga. Por favor."

Ben said, "I don't understand Spanish."

"Your cock ..." Julio gasped. He was still drunk and out of his mind with lust. In his current state, he wasn't entirely unconvinced he wasn't still dreaming. "Lemme- I wanna suck your cock."

Ben straddled his long legs on either side of the Hispanic's chest and Julio's hand clasped the familiar length. What he lacked in skill he made up for in enthusiasm and was quick to take direction as the other teen whispered to him what to do. Julio sucked on the engorged prong with noisy slurps, his tongue circling and swirling about the head while his fingers quickly pumped the strutted shaft. Ben cupped his head with both hands, easing his hips forward to push his thick cock further into Rictor's greedy mouth. A couple of times the smaller teen gagged at the invasion, but the palpitations only fueled the redhead's excitement. Soon, his hips were beginning a steady hunching that sent shivers of ecstasy throughout his churning belly. "Oh, that's it, man. _Fuck!_ You're a natural! Gonna get me off-!" With a strangled curse, he pulled out of that hot mouth and came, splattering his cream over Julio's lips and chin.

Rictor recoiled in surprise and was going to wipe it off and a hand gripped his arm. "Don't," came Ben's deep voice and the Hispanic could feel a wet tongue bathe his chin, drifting upwards to claim the spilled semen around his mouth. Julio parted his lips without thinking and that tongue dipped into his mouth, tasting of 'Star's spunk. Their tongues curled and fluttered against each other's in a lazy dance. Rictor was already hard again but at this point his inexperience was kicking in. He wanted more, _so much more-!_ But wasn't able to articulate how far to go, or how to ask for what he actually wanted.

Reaching back, Ben ran his fingers along Ric's shaft, squeezing it and making him moan and buck his hips in frustrated lust. In the darkness of the room, Rictor heard Ben spit a few times, and then felt him straddle his waist. The hand grasped his dick again and then there was a new sensation. Julio felt the head of his prick being forced against something impossibly tight until it snapped through. There was a hissing sound of pain from Ben from above him. Then that slick warmth slowly eased all the way down to the base of Julio's cock and he realized what was happening. "Ooohh, Madre de Dios _... Si!_ ... Ay, que rico... !"

Carefully, Ben raised himself and began a slow, measured pistoning up and down that engorged lance, angling his body just right so that the upward strokes grazed his prostate. His dick had flagged a bit at the pain but it was climbing again, rejuvenated by this new stimulation. He gripped it and pumped as he squirmed down on Julio's shaft, hearing the muttered Spanish coming from the lips of the other teen. "Asi, asi ... mas, no paras ... Ay dios, si!"

Julio was starting to get into the rhythm now, hunching his hips up just as Ben lunged down and the sound of heir bodies connecting in the dark room increased with the volume of their excited cries and lustful moans.

" _¡Ayyyyy ssssss coño me vengo!"_ Julio rasped harshly and he was coming, bathing the tender channel with its creamy balm, his hips jerking with each salvo.

"Oh _fuck!_ " Ben grunted, fiercely beating his dick and finally ejaculating all over Julio's stomach. When he felt that length inside of him start to soften, he slipped free and collapsed beside the other teen, panting and staring at the ceiling. When he turned his head marginally, he saw that Julio was looking at him through half-lidded eyes. He slurred something in Spanish and, when Ben shook his head in irritation, he said again in English, "This ... isn't a dream, izzit?"

"Nope."

Rictor didn't look as assured as one would have expected. He examined Ben's face in the dark for a few minutes before his eyes drifted closed and he fell back to sleep. Ben stayed beside him for a while and then eventually returned to his own room.

Early the next morning, Julio woke up to a throbbing hangover and a queasy stomach. He considered the litter of tiny bottles scattered around him and squinted at the empty side of the bed. It was all disturbed, as if a second body had been twisting in the sheets. Frowning, he ran a hand back and forth through his mussed hair as he struggled to piece together the events of last night. Shatterstar had been in his dreams; naked and gorgeous as ever, eager to screw and tasting so amazing in his mouth and-

"¡Dios mío!" Rictor cried, pulling the sheet away from his waist and seeing the scales of dried semen on his stomach. _"¿¡Qué he hecho?!"_ Pressing a hand to his mouth, he ran to the toilet and vomited.

Cable had a courier service deliver Rictor's wallet and cell phone along with several changes of clothes for the pair. Ben was grateful for the delivery. His clothes were still in a soggy pile on the bathroom floor and he thought he was going to have to walk around in a robe for the entire day. After he was washed and dressed, he went over to the door that connected his suite to Rictor's. Last night it had been unlocked, but that wasn't the case anymore. He went out into the hall and knocked on the door beside his. "Yo Pedro! You up yet?"

After a few more bangs, Rictor pulled open the door, flashed him a sharp glare, and went back inside without a word. Ric had breakfast service delivered but he hadn't done much more than pick at the dry toast. As Ben poured himself a glass of orange juice, the Hispanic flopped down on the sofa to watch the television, supporting his aching head with one elbow on the armrest.

"Don't mind if I finish off your breakfast, do ya? Where I come from, it's a shame to let anything go to waste."

Rictor passed him a distracted wave and the teen collected everything together on one plate and sat down beside him to eat. Between chewing and swallowing, he commented, "Y'know, for a guy who just got laid last night you're awful quiet."

Rictor passed him a dirty glare.

"And I rode you bareback, too. If this were business I could'a charged you double-"

"Oh, shut the fuck up," Rictor snarled.

"Wow, you sure are bitchy in the mornings."

"I told you I didn't want to sleep with you. I made it damned clear. You snuck in my room and-and-"

"Forced you to come? _Twice?_ " The redhead's lips twisted into a mocking smile. "Make you beg to suck me off? Fuck me? Yeah, you were totally unwilling." He chuckled and shook his head.

"I didn't want to do it with _you!_ " Rictor hollered, his voice raw with emotion. "It's like-like using someone's body that's in a coma. None of this had Gav's okay. I heard you. It hurt. That meant I hurt _him_."

"It ain't nothing I haven't felt before. Him neither," Ben dismissed, chewing on a slice of bacon. "At least what happened last night was enjoyable for the both of us."

"What're you talking about?"

"I've got your boyfriend's memories just like he's got mine. He's from one seriously fucked up place-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. The Mojoverse. What's that got to do with-"

"Lemme finish. You ever see those fat yellow blobs that control his planet? They smile like psychos alla time and they're metal from the waist down. The Spineless Ones."

"I've seen what Mojo looks like on the mansion database, sure."

"You ever see his fingers?"

Rictor had absolutely no idea what the other teen was talking about. "Super long and skinny. They kind of remind me of those face-sucker things from those Alien movies. They-" His gaze sharpened on Ben's face. "Where're you going with this?"

"I'm saying they used those super long fingers for more than just pointing. Your boyfriend was a favorite pet. Pets get fondled and played with, and Gav got played with a _lot_."

That nauseous, unsettled feeling was returning to Rictor's stomach again, making the toast in his stomach threaten to come back up. "No." He was shaking his head. "No, he never said anything like that to me. He just told me that they would take him to their private domes and have him- make him dance ... _Oh god_ ..."

Ben regarded him quietly, letting him work it all out in his head for a moment. In a surprisingly gentle voice, he said, "Gav was with me last night, Pedro. He's _always_ with me. It ain't like he's dead, he's just repressed. Believe me when I say that he enjoyed it just as much as I did. _And_ you."

Rictor couldn't debate the issue as much as he wanted to. What he remembered of the night had felt fantastic, every single minute of it, but it all still circled around to the same damned thing: Ben wasn't 'Star. While he struggled with his conflicted feelings, Ben grabbed a phonebook and rifled through it. After a few minutes, he slapped it shut again. "You up for a road trip?"

"Huh? Where?"

"According to the phonebook my old man's still at the same home address. Thought I'd drop by to say hello."

"What's the point? You said you'd been in the Gamesmaster's head for the last twenty years. You're not even in the same body. He won't recognize you."

That cold, detached expression on the other teen's face never changed. "You comin or not?"

Ric rolled his eyes. "Like I've got any choice?"

They went down to the lobby and the doorman hailed them a taxi. By now, Ben had lapsed into sullen silence, obviously troubled at the impending confrontation and Rictor decided to lighten the mood by elbowing him to catch his attention. "Just so you know, _muy Abuelita_ thinks I'm adorable," he told the other youth.

Ben looked at him, confused. "Your _who?_ "

"My nana."

"Why're you telling me this?"

"You told me yesterday I'm not your type. I'm telling you my _abue_ says I'm a good-looking guy."

A ghost of a smile crossed the larger teen's face. "She does, huh?"

"Yep!"

"She's got shit taste. You're short and you're hairy. You're also way too young. I'm used to getting pounded by bears. Still," he hesitated, considering. "When you speak Spanish, it's damned sexy. I can kinda see the appeal of the whole Latino thing there."

"You're trying to tell me that you've never-" Rictor cast the taxi driver an uneasy glance but he had the radio turned on (perhaps deliberately) and wasn't paying them any attention. "-screwed Hispanics before?"

"Sure I have, but they were never much for conversation. I only ever learned one thing in Spanish. It's all I ever needed to get their attention."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

" _Vamos a pizar,"_ Ben said with a leering grin.

Rictor scowled and, just like that, he was reminded why he didn't particularly like this personality. They went silent for the rest of the trip until the cab entered the neighborhood of Dorchester and pulled up in front of a ratty bungalow that had mold clinging to the white siding and was in need of new shingles on the roof. The bashed-in mailbox had the letters "R SSE L" in the side. The front lawn was a riotous mess of weeds and the car in the yard was a dented, rusted ruin. As the pair stepped up to the rotted wooden deck, there was a box beside the door with a collection of empty whisky bottles. "I guess pops never won the state lottery like he always wanted," Ben remarked sourly, knocking on the door.

"I still think this is a lousy idea," Rictor mumbled.

Ben ignored him as the sound of heavy foot treads approached the door and it was opened as far as the chain guard allowed. A grizzled, sallow face peered out at them from the other side. "Who're you? Whaddya want?"

"Hi Paul," Ben said, and suddenly kicked in the door. It snapped the chain, forcing the man hiding behind it to go stumbling backwards and fall to the floor. The redhead sauntered into the house and paused long enough to spare a glance at Rictor. "Get inside or get lost."

Rictor gaped at him in shock, spared a glance around to see if anyone was watching them, and then hurried inside. "What the hell are you doing?" he hissed, closing the door or tried to. Using 'Star's unnatural strength, Ben had busted the hinges with his kick, leaving it dangling by one bent screw.

"What d'you think?" Ben Russell said, eyeing the man sitting on the dirty carpet. "I'm gonna kill him."

* * *

Translations:

Ric: "Me estás volviendo loco. Yo quiero tu verga. Te quiero mammar la verga. Por favor." – You're driving me crazy. I want your dick. I want to suck your dick. Please.

\- "Ooohh, Madre de Dios ... Si! ... Ay, que rico... !" – Oh, mother of god! Yes! Oh, feels so good ...

\- "Asi, asi ... mas, no paras ... Ay dios, si!" - Just like that, keep doing it just like that ... More, don't stop ... Oh god, yes!

\- "¡Ayyyyy ssssss coño me vengo!" – I'm cumming!

\- "¡Dios mío! ¿¡Qué he hecho?!" – My god! What have I done?

Ben: "Vamos a pizar." - Let's fuck.


	18. Unfinished Business

"Who are you?" the old man on the floor wheezed, staring at the teenaged intruders in fear. "I don't got no money. I don't have anything! Leave me alone!"

"Dude, try to chill out," Rictor said, trying to take control of the situation. "It- it's not what you think. It's going to be okay." _I hope_ , he thought, eyeing his companion warily.

Ben was walking around aimlessly, drawn to the mantle on the far side of the cluttered room. His hand ran along the collection of dusty frames containing faded photographs that were on display among the collection of old knick-knacks. There was one picture of a young boy with freckles and red hair smiling into the camera and being held from behind by a pretty young brunette. Ben picked that photo up and stared at it for a long time. "Where's mom?"

The old man stared at him incomprehensively.

"Louise Russell. Your wife!" Ben barked. "Where is she?"

"She-she's dead," the man said. "She died eight years ago. Cancer."

Ben held up the picture. "And your son. Benjamin. What about him?"

Paul Russell swallowed. "He's dead, too. He's gotta be. I-I ain't seen or heard from him for twenty-five years."

"Y'mean after you beat the living shit outta him and kicked him penniless out on the street. You told him to never come back and he didn't. You ever wonder what happened to him?"

"How-how do you know-"

" _Do you know what I went through?!"_ Ben raged at him, screaming. "I had to sell my ass on the street! I got beat up, raped, and robbed more times than I can count! And all because of _you!_ "

Dull horror surfaced on the old man's sunken cheeks and his bleary, red-rimmed eyes widened. "... Benji?" he whispered in a hoarse, dismayed voice. "Benji? Izzat you?"

Ben glowered back. "Not anymore. I managed to survive for five fuckin years before some psycho called the Gamesmaster decided to play with me. He killed me, pops. Now it's come full circle. I'll gonna kill you next."

"Ben, knock it off," Ric hissed. He tried to grab his arm and the other teen violently shook it off.

"Get offa me, beaner! This don't involve you. It's between me and _him!_ " He pointed at the cringing old man and bared his teeth. "G'bye, pops," he growled and made that going away gesture.

Paul Russell winked out and reappeared about a foot backwards from where he'd been kneeling. Ben tried again and the man barely moved. The youth turned his furious, outraged stare over at Rictor. "Knock it off, Pedro," he snarled.

"You're not sending him anywhere, Clifford," Ric said. "Not as long as I'm here."

"Easily solved," Ben said and his eyes narrowed.

Rictor winked out and reappeared in precisely the same spot. "Psychic anchor, asshole. As long as I think of this spot your power can't send me, or him, away. You can't hurt either of us."

"Wrong," came the response and the floor beneath Rictor's feet suddenly disappeared. With a shout of surprise, he plummeted straight down into the basement.

There was a scrabble of frantic footfalls and Ben whirled around in time to see his father run out of the room and duck down the hall. He lashed out with his power but missed and the entire side of the house disappeared. His power was line-of-sight based and he had no choice but to track the old man down and see him face-to-face to make him disappear while Rictor was distracted.

"Come on, pops! From the looks of things you're half-dead already!" Ben called, glancing into the filthy kitchen and then walking slowly down the hall. "You ruined my fuckin life, you old bastard! All I did was tell you I was gay and you threw me away like I was a piece of garbage! _It's payback time!"_

The door at the end of the hall was closed and he jaunted it away. Standing behind it, Paul Russell stood on trembling legs with a shotgun in his hands and unloaded both barrels. Ben was catapulted backwards by the blast, his right shoulder and arm peppered by rock salt. He lay dazed for a few seconds and then sat up, angrier than ever. "You are _DEAD!_ " he screamed, lashing out with his mind.

Paul Russell dove for cover somewhere out of sight and the whole back bedroom disappeared. Part of the roof collapsed and when Ben jaunted that mess away, he saw his old man running out into the backyard. Just as he was about to nail the coward some force ploughed into his back that made all the bones in his body vibrate in agony. He went down hard.

"That's enough!" Rictor said, standing with his legs braced shoulder-width apart and his hands clasped into the shape of a gun. "Time to chalk this off as a loss and go back to the hotel. What do you say?"

"Fuck you!" Ben shouted. He staggered to his feet and Rictor nailed him again, driving him down to his knees. When it looked like he was still determined to lash out, Ric used his seismic energy power for a third time and drove him through the wall. Shatterstar was tough as hell at the best of times and now he was driven by the all-consummate rage of a persona hell-bent on revenge. It was that potential of homicidal fury that had driven Caliban into such a state of fear, Ric realized. Coupled with his destructive power there was no telling how far Ben was willing to go.

When Rictor stepped through the hole Ben's body made, he found the side of the house jaunted away and the teen had reached the backyard, giving chase after his father. Rictor followed after them, limping slightly from his fall into the basement. His power caused massive trauma to organic tissue and he had already used it on Shatterstar's body more times than he was comfortable with. He had a sinking feeling that this wasn't going to end well.

There was the sound of someone screaming from around a corner and Rictor saw a stand-off in the street. Ben was standing in the middle of the road, the right side of his shirt peppered with bloody holes. He was staring at a car where it looked like his father was hunkered down out of sight in the backseat. The only reason the vehicle hadn't been made to disappear into nothingness was the fact that there was some innocent woman behind the wheel, held there by gunpoint.

"Get outta the car, ya cowardly fuck!" Ben shouted.

"Lemme alone! You ain't my son!" came the muffled cry from the back.

Ben was raising his hand again in that unmistakable gesture and Rictor had no choice but to release another blast that sent the redhead flying across the street. Ben crashed through the picture window of a bungalow and there was a scream of rage before the entire house completely disappeared in a blaze of light. The teenager was kneeling in the ruined foundation, cradling his stomach and coughing up blood. "You're ... gonna have to kill me, Pedro," he rasped. "I ain't stoppin ... not 'til he's dead. Or I am."

"Don't make me do this," Rictor begged, holding his hands in that gun-shape. His entire body was vibrating; a combination of being powered up and terrified at what he might be forced to do. "It's not your body. Don't put 'Star through anymore. Please, Ben, you've both had enough."

"That fucker kicked me outta my house and let me die! I never did anything wrong!" Ben's voice finally broke at the end and tears sprung to eyes. "I just told him I was gay! That's it! And he threw me away! _It wasn't fair!"_

"I know it wasn't and I'm sorry," Julio said honestly. "I'm so damned sorry, Ben, but it was twenty years ago-"

"Not to me!"

"It was twenty years ago and you had your chance at revenge then. You're in 'Star's body now. This doesn't involve him. Let it go."

" _Never!"_ Ben shrieked and lunged towards the car, intending to jaunt the whole vehicle away, including its innocent driver. Squeezing his eyes shut, Rictor raised his hands and was about to release a final, lethal blast at his best friend in the whole damned world.

Everything suddenly froze in place.

 _*Enough,*_ a voice intoned, sounding immensely bored.

Ben slumped to the ground and an ethereal figure hovered above him, considering Rictor with clear disapproval. _*I am not amused by the progression of these events.*_

"Gamesmaster," Ric murmured, itching to fire at that bald prick but knowing it would be useless. "Uh, not that I don't appreciate the intervention, but ... care to tell me why not?"

_*Gaveedra-Seven was to emotionally self-destruct at a premeasured pace with his team helpless to do more than watch as he slowly went mad. An entire sub-plot involving Longshot and Mojo was to take place with a spectacularly paradoxical conclusion. Your presence has completely ruined the potential entertainment value of my strategic manipulation.*_

"How d'ya figure?"

_*This was meant to be a prolonged display of insanity and drama, not a love story. Especially not one of a homosexual nature. I have absolutely no interest in witnessing such liaisons.*_

Rictor never thought he'd be so glad to meet a homophobe in his entire life, but was smart enough not to convey that sentiment out loud.

_*Petty acts of vengeance do not interest me either. Both Seven's and Russell's minds are too fixated; too flawed to provide me the amusement I desire. I will waste no more of my time on this game.*_

"Wait!" Rictor cried. "Does that mean that 'Star will get his mind back?"

The Omnipath's lips twitched. _*... Such as it is.*_

"And Russell? What about him?"

_*I will take him back.*_

"Do you have to? Why can't you let the guy rest in peace?"

_*Because he amuses me, which is more than I can say about you, Julio Esteban Richter. I will not forget this interference nor forgive you for it. Rest assured, we will meet again.*_

"Looking forward to it,"Rictor sighed just as that presence faded away, while thinking; _Great,_ _Another enemy to heap on top of the pile._ _Just what I needed._

Everyone started moving again, people started screaming, and there was the sound of sirens in the distance. Ric went over to where the redhead was beginning to stir and helped him up to a sitting position. "'Star?" he asked hesitantly, staring at the teenager's bruised and bloody face. "Gav? Is that you?"

"Julio," came the exhausted response, with just the right twist to the name in the alien's exotic accent. "I think they're gone. Russell and Gamesmaster. I don't know how-"

"I'll explain it to you later. We have to get out of here. Can you walk?"

"I don't know-" He tried to stand and shouted in pain, falling again. "You have broken many bones, Julio. My mobility is severely compromised."

" _Qué chinga!"_ the Hispanic cursed. He had feared something like this. 'Star's skeletal structure was hollow and Rictor's seismic power had probably created hairline fractures throughout his entire body. "I'm sorry, but-"

"You had no choice. I do not fault you for it." He wrapped his good left arm around Rictor's neck and let the smaller teen haul him up. "Let's make as much distance as we can."

A pair of police cruisers arrived just as Paul Russell was climbing out of the backseat of the Pontiac. He was still holding his shotgun and raving about being attacked by his dead son and that captured the attention of the cops and onlookers long enough for the two teens to make their retreat. 'Star lasted almost two blocks before his injuries were too severe to continue any further. Rictor found a house that was listed for sale and appeared unoccupied. He broke in through the back door and hauled 'Star inside. All of the furniture was cleaned out and it looked like nobody had been in the place for ages. It would serve as a temporary refuge until 'Star could walk again.

Down in the basement Rictor found some boxes of abandoned clothes and some old blankets and brought them back up, covering the alien who had slipped into unconsciousness. The water to the house was turned off and Ric was in the process of slipping into a neighbour's backyard to use their hose to fill a bucket he found when his cell phone rang in his back pocket, almost making him jump out of his skin.

"Hello?" he asked warily.

" _Are you all right?"_ It was Cable's voice. _"Cerebro's been detecting power releases from you and Russell. Who are you fighting over there?!"_

"Each other," Ric said wearily. "Ben tracked down his dad. That was the whole reason he came out here and he just went crazy when they finally met face to face. I had to nail him four times just to keep him down. The only good thing about it all is that it pissed the Gamesmaster off and fixed him."

" _Really? So Shatterstar is all right?"_ There were voices in the background that sounded like the team was listening in on the call. Rictor was pretty sure he heard Tabitha remark in the background, _"Awww, sounds like Jimmy lost his boyfriend."_

"Yeah, looks like he's okay mentally. I busted his body up pretty bad, though. Goddamn hollow bones. He got shot, too. Ben's dad was a real peach, but it's not serious."

" _Do you need me to come up right away for an evac?"_

"No, we're in a safe place for now until he can heal up. We'll go back to the hotel after that. We ... Look, we've got some shit to straighten out before we come back. Can you give us a day?"

" _I'll give you two. Nice job, Ric,"_ he said and hung up.

An hour or so later, Shatterstar began coming around as Rictor was picking the last of the rock salt out of the healing wounds on his right shoulder. "Za's Vid, that stings," he mumbled, blearily opening his eyes. "Humans have no shortage of varied weapons of torture, do they?"

"It's just rock salt, you pussy. If the old man had used .00 shot, you probably would have lost the whole arm," Ric said lightly. In a more serious voice he asked, "How do you feel?"

"My entire body aches but at least my head doesn't anymore, which is actually an improvement. Why did the Gamesmaster release me?"

Rictor told him of his brief conversation with the Omnipath. When he was done, 'Star said, "It was nice of you to make the plea on Russell's behalf, Julio."

"Yeah, but it didn't do any good. Russell wasn't evil. He was just angry and for good reason. He- How much do you remember?"

"About Russell?" 'Star took a deep breath. " _Everything_."

"Does that include what happened when he-he took over?" Julio dropped his eyes and chewed his lower lip. "And ... Well, the other night ... I mean to say-"

"Yes."

"You haven't even heard what I'm trying to say."

" _Fekt!_ By the time you manage to utter the words I'll be completely healed. Yes, I'm aware of what happened last night between you and Russell."

"And are you, like, pissed about it?"

'Star looked at him as if he were missing the point to something. It was his familiar bewildered Irish setter look and Rictor was relieved to see it back on his friend's face. "No. Why would I be angry? Russell spoke the truth when he said I was aware of what was happening. If I hadn't liked it, I guarantee the evening would have ended on a less mutually-fulfilling note."

Rictor smiled, but it was fleeting and he was looking down again. "He ... told me some things. What the Spineless Ones did to you. You just told me they made you dance. You never said they-they-"

"'Molestation', 'assault', and 'violation' are human words for human actions, Julio," 'Star said, slowly pulling himself up into a sitting position and settling his back against the wall. "For a slave in the Mojoverse it is simply a part of our existence. Do not tag resentment and outrage on actions that don't concern you personally. I don't."

"You should."

"I don't," 'Star repeated.

Rictor considered the alien's calm demeanour despite his injuries and obviously dishevelled appearance. It was such a striking contrast to the emotional dervish that had been Ben Russell that it took the Hispanic a moment not to expect the redhead to launch off into some erratic tangent. And he had been in Russell's company for less than a day! He sat down next to his friend and leaned against his uninjured shoulder and finally relaxed at long last. "Dios, it's good to have you back, Gav. When Theresa called me and told me you tried to kill yourself I just about had a heart attack."

"It has been a terrible month since you've left."

"Obviously, not too bad. I hear you scored with Feral."

"Oh. Is this where I'm to reciprocate with the question whether you are 'pissed' with me for engaging in relations with another?"

Rictor shook his head. "Completely different circumstances. Just so you know, I gotta blowjob from a puta in las zonas while I was home."

"Feral also performed fellatio on me," 'Star said and fell into troubled silence.

They glanced at one another for a few seconds then looked uncomfortably away. Only one month had passed but it seemed longer than that. So much had happened in that span of time that they were back on neutral soil again, starting from scratch, and neither knew how to breach the barrier that unwelcome separation had caused.

After a couple of more hours, 'Star was mobile again. It ticked Julio off to no end that he was now the one slowing them down with his sprained ankle and he grumbled about 'Star's healing factor as they boarded a bus to go back to the hotel. The alien was wearing a denim jacket that was about two sizes too small for his broad frame, but it covered most of his bloody, ruined shirt. When they made it back to the Marriott Hotel, the Front Desk Clerk regarded their haggard, battered appearance and simply offered them a polite nod as he pretended not to notice them both limping past the marble counter on their way to the elevator. Fifteen years on the job had granted him an instinct that was almost as tangible as a mutant power and it told him on no uncertain terms that those were two teenaged boys he would do best to avoid at all costs. As hard as he tried to ignore them, he heard their exchange as they waited for the elevator doors to open.

"Dude, when you were in jail did you really flip off a cop and tell him to fuck off?"

"I was angry."

"Outstanding."

They entered the elevator and the doors closed and the Clerk released the breath he hadn't even realized he was holding in.

'Star went to his suite long enough to grab a shower and change of clothes and then went into Rictor's hotel room, acting on some unspoken agreement that they were going to share quarters until Cable finally came to pick them up. He went into the bedroom and fell asleep on the bed, still nursing injuries from Rictor's powers and emotionally exhausted from several weeks of mental torture. At one point late in the afternoon, he pulled out of his weary slumber and noticed Rictor had joined him on the bed, deep asleep and snoring. Ever since his call from Theresa five days ago the Mexican had been cruising along on caffeine and adrenaline it all finally caught up with him. He was out cold.

It was an odd situation Shatterstar found himself in. His kennel in the Mojoworld slave pens had contained a single cot that had barely housed his large frame, and the cells had been pressed up against other slaves' without so much as a curtain between them for privacy. Sleeping arrangements among the Cadre had been equally tight and uncomfortable with soldiers grouped together for warmth while others rotated shifts to keep watch. Shatterstar elected to sleep on the outskirts of the compound out in the cold as a back-up in case of ambush, but the real reason was because he simply couldn't tolerate the close contact with others. Earth afforded him opportunities of privacy he had never known before and, while he revelled in it, his time here had also changed him in a profound, fundamental way. He no longer reacted to a slap on the shoulder as an invitation to a fight; eye contact was not meant as a display of intimidation; and, perhaps the best of all, an intimate touch was not meant as a claim of ownership intended to degrade. It meant companionship, and pleasure, and something that Shatterstar never thought he'd be capable of feeling towards another: Trust.

Julio was in bed with him, less than a foot of space separating their bodies. Eleven months ago, perhaps even less then three, Shatterstar would have immediately pulled away and gone elsewhere to secure rest; uncomfortable by the familiarity. Now he looked at his friend's peaceful face and couldn't imagine not seeing it there. He smiled faintly and quickly fell back asleep.

It was his rumbling stomach that finally woke Rictor. When he opened his eyes, he saw that the room was dim. It was going on sunset. He had spent the majority of the afternoon in bed and he was pleased to see that he still wasn't alone. He knew he had taken a gamble crawling into bed with 'Star while the alien had been sleeping. On their trip back to the hotel, there had been some round-about discussion about what they had done together before it all went south, but had deliberately sidestepped the issue of where their friendship was going to go now that they were reunited. According to Russell, 'Star had missed him terribly while he'd been in Mexico and Julio had to admit that he hadn't been much better. What did that make them? Friends with benefits? A couple? He was grateful that Cable had agreed to give them some time to work it out.

He sat up in bed and turned on the bedside lamp. 'Star stirred and blinked at him before glancing over at the window. "Evening already? Za's Vid ..."

"I'm going to call for room service. You hungry?" Rictor said, reaching for the phone.

"Starving."

"What d'ya want?"

"Protein, carbs, caffeine, and sugar."

"Well, that just about covers the four food groups," Ric joked and ordered meals that catered to their fancy. In 'Star's case that amounted to a T-bone steak, two baked potatoes, a bottle of Pepsi Max, and a slice of cherry cheesecake. Rictor was in the mood for Italian and ordered a pizza with the works, Mountain Dew, and chocolate cake.

While they waited for room service to bring up their orders, they sat side by side on the bed in uncomfortable silence.

"So ..." Rictor said, making a popping sound with his tongue.

"So ..." 'Star echoed, running a hand through his mussed hair. "Do you think it'll rain tonight?"

Ric frowned at him. "Huh?"

"Isn't that what one does during awkward pauses? Remark on the weather?"

The Mexican looked at him for a few seconds and then started laughing. "Count on you to break the tension."

"I don't understand why there is now tension between us. Is it because of Russell?"

"It'd be convenient to say yes, but I wouldn't have come back if that hadn't happened."

"I'd suspected as much," the alien said quietly, looking towards the window. This side of the hotel offered a terrific view of the harbour. Out over the Atlantic, cumulous clouds were brewing and churning into thunderstorms. "Julio, I understand why you left. Events of the last few weeks made me realize the severity of the situation, and Russell's memories cemented my resolve. Gays are hated just as much as mutants. In a way it is worse. At least the label of being a mutant carries an intimidation factor most humans won't broach. Homosexuality appears to incite unreasonable violence and hatred in just about _everyone_."

The Hispanic was stunned by the turnabout in the alien's behaviour. He never thought that 'Star would ever be able to grasp the reason why he had fled from the mansion. It seemed his friend had gone through some brutal education lessons these last few weeks. "If I came out to my uncles or cousins, I'd go through the same thing as Russell did with his dad," Rictor told him. "In my country, real men aren't gay. Not ever. They get beaten, knifed, or killed. Or-or ... _worse_. Especially in a crime family like mine. I was a nervous wreck most of the time I was there."

"I asked James if he would have wanted me off the team if I was gay. He did not answer the question."

Rictor was still angry at James for overstepping the bounds of friendship like that. Russell had humiliated him in spectacular fashion and hopefully made him rethink his stance. "You quit the next day."

"I quit that night," 'Star corrected. "I left for New York the next day."

Rictor considered him for a long moment. "What were you going to do there?"

"I don't know. That was the day I kept calling your home. I needed advice."

"What day was that?" the Hispanic asked. When 'Star told him, he realized it was during his four-day trip with his uncle Gonzalo and two cronies. When he had come back to the villa his step-mother had told him that no one had called. Now that he thought about it, the older woman had acted damn odd. "That guy on the phone. The one who told you to fuck off. What'd he sound like?"

"Mean."

Ric muttered, "Probably Martinez. The fucker."

"Who?"

"Just another asshole in Mexico associated with my uncles. I'm sorry I didn't get your message, Gav."

"I was thinking of joining you in Mexico. Perhaps, it's just as well that the Gamesmaster-"

"Don't say that!" Rictor snapped. "Don't even think that!"

"My joining you at your home would have only complicated matters. I realize that now. And X-Force is still based at Xavier's mansion. I know how you feel about that location."

"So maybe we don't return to either place," the smaller teen said, regarding his friend seriously. "I know it's a 'Longshot' but maybe there's a way we can contact _him_."

'Star looked at him strangely. "To what end?"

"To help get you back to your time. I'd like to come with you. Maybe he can come up with a way to get the both of us back to your Cadre buddies and we can help them overthrow Mojo and- 'Gav? What's wrong?"

'Star had slid around to sit with his feet on the floor, deliberately giving the other teen his back. "They're dead, Julio," he said in a low voice, almost a whisper. "The Cadre Alliance. Windsong. They're all dead."

" _¿Como?_ How do you know this?" Rictor said, sitting beside him.

In that humbled voice, 'Star repeated the conversation that he'd had with Cable out in the woods. "It is as you tried to tell me all those months ago. Cable never intended to help me until he was finished with his own agenda. I'm stranded on this world. I'm not human; I'm not really a mutant. I'm alone here."

"Gav, you're _not_ alone-"

"Julio, we have been hiking over this issue since we returned-"

"Dancing, chabòn. The expression is 'dancing around'-"

Shatterstar passed him an exasperated wave, as he usually did when he was frustrated by being corrected on incorrect slang, especially during important matters. "You came back to help me through the Gamesmaster's attack. That crisis has been resolved thanks to your assistance. You can now go back to Mexico because that is where your home and family are. I will return to X-Force because I-" he faltered just a little, "I have no other place to go." He rose and walked out of the bedroom. "I will return to my quarters. It is best if we do not stay too close."

"I think it's way too late for that, Gav," Julio said, scrambling to his feet. He grabbed the alien's arm and pulled him to a stop. "We're friends. We're actually more than that now. We've got two days to work this out and I want us to do it together."

"And then what? Watch you leave from an airport terminal and spend my days pining for you like an ailing pet?" 'Star said with amazing bitterness. "I endured that once already. I had reconciled myself to the reality you were not coming back. What you did with Russell was fine. I was not emotionally invested in that particular liaison, but I will not be used for the next two days for your pleasure and then be abandoned again, Julio. It hurts my head and my heart. Even worse, it hurts my _uemeur_. My _soul_."

Rictor was shamefaced and sad to hear such pain coming from the other teen. That had really been his intention; for them to get it on while they were alone here without a thought of the consequences or long-term ramifications. As ever, 'Star was always thinking several moves ahead. "I understand what you're feeling, Gav. It's all part of that emotional growth thing we were talking about before I left."

"I do not know the emotion I feel for you, Julio. I just know it pains me when you are in distress and feels worse when you are absent. The more time we spend together the worse it gets for me. It is like some affliction."

"Oh, it's an affliction all right," Ric mumbled, running his hand up the other teen's muscular arm, cupping his neck. "One of the worst."

'Star looked alarmed. "Is there a cure?"

"Kind of," Julio said and hauled him down for a kiss. 'Star actually resisted a little at first, his lips tense before he gradually yielded to that insistent pressure and opened his mouth wide enough for Ric's tongue to slip through and flick against his. It was a teasing gesture, an invitation, and 'Star relented, letting the other teen pull him close. They kissed warmly for several minutes before Ric pulled back. There was a string of saliva connecting their bottom lips before he licked it off. "I'm not going to use you and leave," he said. "Cable knows about me and is cool with it. Thanks to what happened between James and Russell, we're safe with the team so long as we keep things on the down low."

"You're coming back to X-Force?"

"I'm kinda in the same boat as you, 'Star. I don't have anywhere else to go either. Things at home are too messed up. I don't want to be away from you anymore. It hurts me, too."

They were regarding one another intensely for that moment until there was a sharp rap of knuckles at the door. "Room service," a voice called.

"What's it gonna be, _chabòn_? You hungry for food or for me?" Rictor said with a knowing grin.

'Star glanced at the door and then turned back to his friend, his silver-blue eyes excited and wanting.


	19. Vamos a Pizar

Shatterstar went for the food.

At first, Rictor was pretty pissed at being shelved for a damned steak but soon realized that, aside from breakfast leftovers and some Mexican casserole, the alien had been tied down to a bed in the infirmary for almost four full days without sustenance. Ric had felt the change in the warrior's body beneath his hands during their brief kissing session. 'Star had no trace of body fat and had lost muscle tone over the last few weeks. His healing factor slowed his metabolism, but he still needed calories to maintain peak form and it was pretty clear he was starved. He took his meal over to the dining table and concentrated all of his attention to consuming it without interruption.

Julio sat down in front of the television with his pizza and watched the local channel. As expected, the showdown with Ben's father was top news. There was helicopter footage of the damage to the Russell home (what was left of it), and the outline of a foundation where the other home had been. There were also some grainy, erratic cell phone videos of Rictor and 'Star battling it out but fortunately nothing too clear for positive identification. As usual, the news anchor related the events in his overly dramatic baritone: "- _another mutant confrontation that resulted in extensive property damage but, thankfully, no loss of life. Police arrested Paul Russell, a sixty year-old unemployed mechanic, for taking a woman hostage with an unloaded shotgun. His claims of trying to protect himself from his son, believed long-dead, have prompted officials to place Russell under psychiatric assessment pending-"_

" _Maldito_ , what a mess," Rictor grumbled, turning the channel to an episode of The Simpsons and watched that instead. It was precisely the brainless entertainment he needed as he ate his supper. When the show was over, he looked over at the dining table and saw 'Star still sitting there, not moving. His plates were clean and the two-litre bottle of Pepsi MAX was just about empty. " _Que onda,_ Gav? You okay?"

There was no answer. Concerned, Julio went over to the table and saw 'Star was looking down at something he was holding in his hands. It was the picture of young Ben Russell with his mother. "You took that from the house?"

"His father does not deserve it," the alien said in an odd, troubled voice. "Ben wanted it so I shall keep it. For him."

"Gav, how much of Russell is still in your head?" Rictor asked, staring closely at his friend.

Shatterstar closed his eyes and a tear tracked down his right cheek before he wiped it away. "All of him. It was like being immersed in the Source and psychically downloaded with data I did not want or need. My mind is now a gestalt of two beings. I can submerge his memories, but I cannot entirely forget them."

Rictor pulled over a chair and sat down beside him. "Look ... maybe Cable can do something about that when we get back. Remove them or something."

'Star slowly shook his head. "No. I will not discard him as his father did. As society did. He can stay with me."

"It's not your burden. You've got enough shit to carry around on your shoulders. You don't need him added to the pile."

"He stays, Julio." The finality in the warrior's voice would tolerate no further debate. Rictor knew the teen well enough that arguing would be useless at this point. That might change in the future if mental problems developed from this new personality download, but for now it was simply too soon to tell.

As 'Star continued to stare bleakly at the photo, Rictor took it gently out of his hands and placed it facedown on the table. The alien hung his head and Ric leaned in beside him, wrapping an arm around his wide shoulders and kissed his cheek, nuzzling his jaw line. That made 'Star smile a little. "Your stubble tickles."

"Well, that's what happens when I don't shave every day, unlike a certain someone who only has to do it once a week. I should think someone who sucked face with Feral should be used to some facial fur."

"I did not say I disliked it," 'Star said, rubbing his hand against Julio's rough cheek. "Does the fact that I coupled with Feral bother you?"

"No! It's just-" Rictor flushed a little. "I'm a little curious about what the two of you did. All right, I'm a _lot_ curious. I kind of wonder how different your experience was from mine."

'Star knew that when Rictor left New York he had still been a virgin. "Did you meet someone in Mexico?"

"Well, I told you about that puta who sucked me off. Well, we kind of did it, but ..." The Hispanic's slight flush deepened noticeably. "It didn't really go all that well at first. We tried to do it face to face, but looking at her kind of turned me off. It wasn't until we did it doggy-style that I was finally able to come. Probably because I told her to stop talking so I could think about you." He kept out the fact that he had been stoned out of his mind at the time, or that the whore had let him screw her in the ass.

"'Doggy' was Feral's preferred position. Ironic when you think about it," 'Star remarked in his usual dry manner. "We tried top and bottom, back and front, but that was the favorite."

"Holy shit, how many times did you two do it?"

"Six. Seven? I lost count ... and consciousness."

Rictor sat riveted in his seat and stared at the teen as if he had developed some tangible new attribute. Like a third eye, or horns. "And you liked it, right? You had no problems ... y'know, getting it up. With _her_?"

"Actually, getting it down was more of an issue not that she was complaining-"

"So you like women. You're attracted to them."

"Yes." He was aware that Julio was continuing to look at him strangely. "What's wrong?"

"And you like guys, too."

"I like _you_. None of the other males in the mansion have any appeal to me. Why are you asking?"

"You're not gay, Gav. You're bisexual. It means you like both genders sexually."

"Is that bad?"

"Honestly? When it's a guy as great-looking as you are, it makes you one helluva lucky prick. It doubles your chances of scoring on a night out."

"I'm not interested in anyone else. Only you."

 _Why me?_ Julio almost wanted to ask, staring at the other teen, searching his face for any trace of lie or deceit. For all of his boasting and bullshit, Rictor had remarkable low self-esteem. Chalk it up to a rough childhood, or left-overs of torture from The Right, or his own pessimistic views of being a mutant (and, now, a gay one). He wasn't tall; not all that educated; good-looking in that dark, full-lipped, fine-boned way most Latinos were, but he would never be considered handsome. Mentally, he was prone to depression and self-deprecating behaviour. He had an athlete's physique, but that was about the only positive thing he offered. In terms of a relationship, he really didn't bring a whole lot to the table.

And here was Shatterstar; a tall, perfectly-built, devastatingly handsome young man. He was highly intelligent and skilled and brimming with enough self-confidence to sustain three other people. Although he had been a slave on his world, he had also been a star performer and that ego still carried in his mannerisms; the way he moved and gestured. Even the way he talked held one spellbound. If he were ever able to marshal his full powers of sheer charisma, there wasn't anyone he couldn't charm to bed, male or female.

And he had set his sights on Rictor.

"You're doing that again," 'Star remarked when the other's teen's silence stretched on. "That awkward pause thing."

" _Lo siento_ ," Ric mumbled. "Sometimes I just can't believe it when I get a run of good luck. It doesn't happen often."

'Star got to his feet. "I feel the caffeine and sugar kicking in. Time to make use of it."

"Yeah? How so?"

Halfway to the bedroom, 'Star stopped and looked at him over his shoulder and asked almost casually, " _Tienes ganas?"_

" _Me pones muy caliente_ _,"_ Julio responded honestly.

_"Te cae?"_

_"Me cae."_

If Julio had any suspicions that Ben Russell might still be rattling around inside of that redheaded brain, it was verified when the warrior offered him a slightly feral grin and said, _"_ _Vamos a pizar."_

Rictor was out of the chair so fast he knocked it over, practically tackling the alien in his urgency. The instant their bodies connected they spoke exclusively in Spanish, by now having associated that language with physical intimacy.

"You drive me absolutely crazy," Julio said, quickly discarding his T-shirt. He tugged at the alien's shirt and helped pull it off and then they were grinding their muscular chests against each other.

"I've wanted to do this since you've left," 'Star said and kissed him, their tongues lapping and sucking desperately. He went down to one tanned nipple and bit it as Feral had done to him, and Rictor released a shocked gasp. Like most males, he didn't associate that spot as an erogenous zone and when he felt 'Star lash that nub with his tongue, the sensations seemed to go straight down to his dick. "Oh my fuck!" he groaned.

'Star dropped to his knees and bit lightly along the swollen bulge pushing at the denim to Ric's jeans. He unfastened the button and ripped the fly apart, metal fasteners flying everywhere in his haste to get to the prize. He reached in through the open pants and hauled out the teen's dick. It was warm and throbbing in his hand. He pulled back the dark foreskin and exposed glistening red cockhead, already drooling pre-cum. Swirling his tongue around the tip, 'Star sucked it in, slipping his tongue under the hard shaft as he worked it deeper into his mouth, deep-throating the dick until his nose was buried in the lush thatch of pubic hair.

"Like that- Just like that!" Julio was moaning, fisting his fingers in the redhead's thick hair. "Oh _god!_ "

'Star held steady, contracting his throat muscles around it, then slid his mouth back off until his lips held only the head. He deliberately ran his tongue along the sensitive prepuce beneath the helmet and poked it deftly into the slit. After mouthing him a little while longer, he pulled his lips off it and got back to his feet.

Ric was waiting for him, pulling him close and crushing his mouth against the other while he ground his erect cock against 'Star's crotch, feeling the answering bulge against his throbbing dick. He pushed the alien down on the bed and crawled between his legs, unfastening the pants and tugging them down his lean hips to gain better access to 'Star's eight-inch joint. He wrapped his fingers around the stiff shaft and slid his other hand up to take hold of his balls, inciting a guttural rasp of encouragement in Cadre. Without any trace of hesitation, Julio leaned forward and took that huge cock into his mouth. He couldn't take all of its girth without gagging and had to settle for pumping his hand along the base while sucking lustily with pursed lips and eager tongue. He fondled the soft globes and then planted a kiss on the warrior's ripped stomach, running his tongue up along the salty flesh until they were in each others arms again, kissing with reckless abandon, their hard cocks trapped between their bodies.

They rubbed and humped their aching groins together in impatient lust until 'Star whispered, "I want you in me, Julio."

"You sure, Gav?"

"Positive."

Ric grinned and kissed him and then got off the bed and went into the bathroom. Puzzled, 'Star stared after in him until he saw what his friend came back with and betrayed a smile. "Did Domino give you the talk, too?"

"Hey, I'm human. We're taught this shit when we're kids," Ric said, opening the condom packet and sliding it on his erect dick. "Complimentary lube, too. This is one posh hotel."

"Hurry, Julio." 'Star rolled over to his hands and knees and Ric was struck marvelling at the view: Broad shoulders, muscular back, tapered torso, narrow waist. That beautiful ass that had captivated Julio those few months ago; tight and firm and now waiting for him. So much better than that young whore in Guadalajara.

Ric crawled onto the bed between 'Star's legs and thoroughly greased his rubbered lance with lubricant. He smeared more over and around that starburst and leaned over, taking his oily cock in hand and guiding it to the right spot. The head bunted against the opening. It prodded. It pushed. Finally, it snapped through and 'Star released an uncomfortable grunt.

Ric almost pulled out. "You okay, Gav?"

"Keep going, Julio. It's all right. Don't hold back." He pushed back in encouragement.

Rictor slowly eased his shaft into that slick passage, withdrawing the full length until only the head was in that tight cavern and then sinking the full length into him until his pubic hair was grinding against 'Star's ass. He started hunching in and out with increasing speed. "Oh Christ, this feels so good. Fuck, Gav!" Ric panted, digging his chin between the alien's perspiring shoulder blades. He licked at the salty skin, nipped at the smooth flesh, planting kisses along the flushed skin.

His face pressed against the bed, 'Star lost his grasp of Terran languages and muttered a steady stream of Cadre. "Ii seika mez ... _Fekt!_ Brai sav ... _Ky!_ "

Hearing that just about made Julio crazy. He began driving his cock in and out of him faster and faster. Ric reached down and wrapped one hand around 'Star's huge cock, beating him off as he slammed his pelvis against that willing ass. 'Star came first, his come splattering all over Ric's busy hand and making it slick and slippery and that put the Hispanic completely over the edge. He thrust all the way in for the last time and started firing off his load of hot come into the condom, fireworks going off in his head as his entire body jerked with each spurt of his seed. He fell forward, his body covering his partner's and feeling those ass muscles flexing around his softening dick. He was in no hurry to pull it out. It felt wonderful to be surrounded in that tight warmth, feeling that strong, muscular body under his. His mind drifted in post-orgasmic pleasure. He could have fallen asleep in that position.

"Ungh, Julio," 'Star finally said. "Dhi mezi'teh-"

"English, Gav. Or Spanish."

"Get off me. You're heavier than I am."

"Oops, sorry," Julio said, pulling out and flopping over on his back. He peeled off the used condom and discarded it into the trash. As an afterthought, he wiped his cum-smeared hand off on the sheets. "I think we're going to have to leave a big-ass tip for the chambermaid tomorrow."

"Codlista," 'Star agreed. "That was excellent."

"It sure was, but it's not really fair. You're cheating," Julio said, staring at the other teen. "You're drawing on Russell's memories when we screw. No way you got that good just from banging Feral. No way in hell!"

'Star betrayed a guilty smile. "He is immensely talented on this subject. It would be a waste not to utilize such knowledge."

"Lucky me," Ric said. "Not so fair on you, though."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm the one getting all the pleasure-"

'Star rolled onto his back and Ric noticed with surprise that the alien was still hard. "That's entirely not true."

"You're telling me that you like getting fucked?"

"I ejaculated, didn't I?"

"Yeah. Yeah, you did, but ..." Rictor hesitated, wondering if he might ruin the moment and decided to surge on ahead. "But, you're kinda conditioned to take it, aren't you? Thanks to the way those fuckin' Spineless perverts made you."

The fact that the alien did not argue or debate spoke volumes. "I will not fuck you, Julio."

"Not even if I want you, too? Don't you want to try it?"

"I am too big and you are inexperienced. It will hurt you. I won't do it," the alien said with a trace of finality to his voice.

Rictor reached over and gripped the alien's hard dick, making him jump in surprise. "Assholes stretch. How to do that's gotta be in your Russell database somewhere, right? I want to know what it feels like. I want us to be equals-"

"Versatile."

"Huh?"

"The insertive partner is the _top_ , the recipient is the _bottom_. A preference for either position is referred to as _versatile_."

"Russell?"

"No. Wikipedia."

"Good to know. Now are you gonna be the 'top' or not?"

"Bossy. I like that," 'Star remarked, staring down at where Ric's hand was still stroking his dick. "Do we have more condoms and lubrication?"

"Enough for tonight," Ric said with hungry grin. The prospect of trading places with his best friend and feeling that hard heat inside of him was making him erect again in excitement. "C'mon, Gav," he said, giving the big teen's shaft a tight squeeze. "You know you want to do this."

"All right," 'Star said, reaching for the bottle and pouring some lube in his hand. "If the discomfort becomes too much just say so."

"Hey, I know how to shout. Don't you worry about me."

'Star coaxed him on his back and took Rictor's cock into his mouth, sucking lustily and working it deeper into his throat as his slick hand briefly fondled those tight balls before grazing the perineum between scrotum and anus. Ric was trying to concentrate on that wonderful slurping mouth but, when he felt the tip of one greased finger slide into him, he totally forgot all about the blowjob. His body jerked in blind reflex. _"Holy shit-!"_

"Stay relaxed," 'Star murmured, working his finger in deeper, crooking it. "Tell me if you want me to stop-"

"Nonono _no,_ don't stop! It- Why does it feel so-so-" _Good,_ he wanted to say, but that wasn't quite the right word for this new sensation. Not quite. "...Weird?"

"I'm grazing your prostate." Once that first finger began moving easily in and out, he added a second and Julio dropped his head back on the bed with a moan of pleasure, raising his legs to allow his friend easier access. "Oh _hell_ , Gav!"

"Relax," 'Star repeated, licking the twitching cock while he pushed and prodded. He added more lube and slid in a third digit and began to scissor his fingers to stretch the tight tissues. That was when he felt Julio flinch. "Too much?"

"No, I ... it-it's okay," the Hispanic panted. "It's just- _Shit!_ It just feels so strange. It hurts a little, but not-not in a real bad way. It's really okay. Keep doing that."

'Star took his time, relying on his training of patience and self-control, even if the plaintive moans and lustful grunts Julio was making were beginning to erode his composure. His penis was hard as a rock, excited at the prospect of experiencing this new pleasure while he felt Ric squirming impatiently around on his slick fingers.

"Oh Christ, that's enough. Do it, Gav. Fuck me!" Rictor finally pleaded.

"Are you sure-"

" _DO IT!"_

"Bossy," 'Star mumbled to himself as he slid the condom on and applied more lube, carefully coating his entire dick. "Roll over, Julio. It will make this easier."

Obeying without argument, Rictor went to his knees and lifted his ass in the air. The head of 'Star's cock pressed against that virgin asshole and Julio fisted the sheets with anxious fingers. "Take a deep breath and relax," the alien said calmly from behind, grabbing his tanned hips with his large hands as he pushed forward. The greased sphincter stretched smoothly over the large helmet and 'Star kept his hips motionless before pushing forward another inch. "Julio?"

"Ohhh god," Ric moaned into the bed. "More, Gav. Give me more."

'Star slowly pushed his length forward, taking his time and pausing every few seconds until every inch was buried deep inside the hot channel, filling Rictor with its heat and bulk. The warrior waited then, giving him a chance to get used to the sensation. He honestly needed the time to marshal his own self-control. " _Brai sav_ ... You feel so good, Julio. Fekt! I did not expect it to be this pleasurable."

" _Unng_ , it's different, that's for sure. It hurts a little, but it-it's cool. Just ... just go real slow."

"Codlista," he said, sliding back just a bit, no more than an inch at first and slipping it back in, fucking his partner with short, slow, even-paced strokes as the lubricant began easing the back passage, making it immensely pleasurable for both teenagers.

"Ohhhh, that feels great, Gav. You can go faster. I wanna feel you fuck me," Julio rasped, squeezing down on that invading cock. 'Star responded by pulling out until just the tip was inside and then drove his full length into him. Julio let out a cry, a loud, "Aghhh!" but it was more in pleasure than pain. 'Star held the smaller teen tight and rode him, ass fucking him in long easy strokes. At one point, he fingered Rictor's taut nipples, inciting more excited cries, pinching them as he began speeding up, driving his thick wedge in and out of him faster and faster. Julio was fucking back, pushing his hips back to meet in an answering slap of flesh as their bodies connected.

Both of their muscular forms were streaked with sweat and the room was filled with the wet sounds of their bodies meeting and writhing together. There were two different languages shouting out as each teen reached the pinnacle of pleasure. Julio climaxed with strangled cry, shooting his spend against the sheets as 'Star hammered into him from behind, driving it deep and coming into the condom even as he continued thrusting. It seemed to take forever before he was satisfied, holding Rictor's limp body until he finally softened and gently eased his dick out of that swollen hole. He fell back in bed, breathing hard and physically spent.

Rictor rolled over to stare at him. "Holy shit. That-that was ... was ... _fuck!_ " was all he could say in a hoarse, stunned voice.

"I can never go back to females again," 'Star commented in an equally dazed voice.

The two looked at each other and suddenly burst out laughing.

The rest of the evening was interspersed with naps, watching television, munchies with RedBull, and back to mutual exploration. There had only been the two complimentary condoms in Rictor's bathroom, but there were two more in 'Star's suite and the youths made quick work of those in their quest to squeeze as much fucking into one night as two healthy, horny male mutants were capable of achieving without causing bodily injury to each other. By morning, it looked like an orgy had taken place in Rictor's bedroom. The two guilty teens agreed to leave a fifty dollar tip on the bed and disappeared for the afternoon to give the chambermaid time to clean the mess.

Boston was a polite, clean city in comparison to their rough excursions into New York. Russell's knowledge in 'Star's head was twenty years out of date, but most of the landmarks were still standing and the alien felt compelled to visit some of them out of curiosity. They ate at a local pub, each having fake IDs that declared them 21 years of age. 'Star never got carded, but it unnerved Julio to no end that he always did. After that they went to see an afternoon movie at the Cineplex. What they were on was really a date, but neither teen considered it that. To them, it was just two close friends getting out for an afternoon.

Before heading back to the hotel to continue the night's debauchery, they went into a pharmacy and regarded the aisle that contained the condoms and sexual aids, staring in wide-eyed astonishment at the assortment. _"_ _¡Ah chingá!"_ Julio marvelled. "There's more variety here than there are for candy bars."

Unlike most teenagers who just grabbed the nearest available package and slinked over to the check-out, Shatterstar thoroughly investigated each box in his usual methodical manner. "The condoms in the hotel were too tight. I require something larger," he said, carefully reading the instructions on the back of each package.

There were two women standing nearby and brazenly staring at him. 'Star didn't notice. He had all of his attention trained exclusively on Julio, whose cheeks were slowly turning crimson while the alien continued talking in a normal tone of voice, as if he were at the park or at a parade. "-did not like the taste of the flavoured ones. The glow-in-the-dark models were disappointing. The lubricated ones smell awful. What are ribbed condoms like? Wouldn't they be painful?"

"Tssss! Keep your voice down," Rictor muttered, wishing he could just drop down through the floor like Kitty Pryde. "Ribbed are more for-for women. Here." He thrust a box of Trojan Magnums into 'Star's hand (selected a Snugger Fit brand for himself) and then realized they still had to select a lube. "Ay mierda," he said, eying the different bottles in dismay.

"Go for the KY Silk," one of the nearby girl's suggested. She pointed to her friend. "That's what she prefers."

"No bitter after-taste. No allergic reactions either. Just a nice smooth ride," the older blond said, pulling a bottle from the shelf and handing it over to 'Star, the contact of their hands lingering. "I'm Amanda and this is Cheryl."

"And we're just passing through," Julio said bluntly, pulling his friend away who was staring at the pretty blond with an odd expression on his face.

"You look like a cute couple," Amanda said pleasantly, focusing her attention on the tall redhead.

'Star flashed her a broad smile. "Thank you. We've just started engaging in relations-" he managed to say before being boldly yanked down another aisle and out of sight.

"That was a real mistake," Julio snapped after they paid for their purchases and were walking back to the hotel. He had lapsed into a foul mood. "When we're out in public together, we're just friends. Okay? Don't be saying shit like we're a couple. I'm not cool with it."

"Isn't that what we are?"

"That's not the point. What we do when the two of us are alone together is nobody else's goddamned business, 'Star. I'm not coming out until I'm good and ready and not you or anybody else is gonna rush it. Understand?"

There would come a time when the duplicity would wear on the alien, but now was not the time. Right now he was simply, completely confused. "So, in public you are straight and I am bi-"

"You're straight."

"But last night you said-"

"As far as everyone else is concerned, you're straight. Haven't you been listening to a damned word I've been saying? When we're out in public, we're _normal_. I know that's a tough concept for you to wrap your head around, but that's how it's going to be. No touching, no kissing, don't even give me _the_ _look_ -"

"What 'look'?"

"That dumb Irish Setter look. The one that says there's more between us than just friendship-"

"But we _are_ more than friends-"

" _I know what we are!"_ Rictor shouted up into his face, making the taller teen recoil in shock. Even a few passerby's passed the duo an odd look. "Well, that's not entirely true," Ric relented. "I'm not really sure _what_ we are. We're best friends, first and foremost, but what we're doing is really complicating things."

"Then perhaps we'd best stop," 'Star said. He turned sharply on his heel and resumed his course toward the hotel.

"Huh?" Ric looked after him for a few seconds and then hurried to catch up. "What d'ya mean by _that?"_

"Having the sex is obviously a burden. To salvage our friendship, we should not engage in relations anymore."

"Now hold on a minute, Clifford! You can't just go and do what we did last night and then put a stop to it-"

Shatterstar came to a sudden halt and the smaller teenager almost ran into his back. When the warrior turned, Rictor sucked in breath at the rage he saw there. He had never expected to be on the receiving end of it, but it was clear that he had crossed some sort of line. "You should have thought of _that_ before you made the mistake of comparing me to a _fekting dog_! Twice!" he snarled directly into the Mexican's astonished face. "I endured that derogatory title for fifteen years as a slave and I won't tolerate it from anyone. Especially not from _you!"_

"Aw shit, 'Star," Ric said, reddening in shame. He hadn't realized that the alien would take the Irish Setter reference and the nickname 'Clifford' in a completely different context than Russell had. "I-I didn't mean it like that."

"You are rude, Rictor. You are insulting and telling me what to do and say. I do not like it. I fought hard for my freedom and sacrificed far too much to be ordered about like some brainless lackey. If the intimate nature of our friendship is too complicated for you to handle, consider it ended." He whirled around and stalked back to the hotel and it was clear he had emotionally shut down by the time they walked through the front doors.

The Front Desk Clerk watched the guest registered as Clifford Russell quickly walk across the lobby to head for the elevators while his smaller companion was trying to keep up, saying over and over: "-sorry! I'm really sorry, 'Star! I didn't mean what I said! _Alto, por favor!_ _Lo siento, estrella._ _Ares mi mejor amigo!"_ That head-turning display continued until the elevator doors closed on the pair where it would no doubt continue right up to the sixth floor. The Clerk called up the hallway monitor on that level and, sure enough, the guest known as Pedro Richter was still babbling apologies right up until the Russell youth let himself into his suite and deliberately slammed the door in his friend's astonished face. Richter sulked for a few seconds, noticed the camera and flashed it the bird before letting himself into his own room.

The Clerk had to admit; guests like those two eased the monotony of his job.

* * *

Translations:

Star: "Tienes ganas?" - Are you horny?

Ric: "Me pones muy caliente." - You get me very horny.

Star: "Te cae?" - Are you serious?

Ric: "Me cae." - I swear.

Star (Ben): "Vamos a pizar." - Let's fuck.

Ric: "Alto, por favor! Lo siento, estrella. Ares mi mejor amigo!" – Stop, please! I'm sorry, star. You're my best friend!


	20. Mutual Confessions

Alone in his suite, his bedroom back in immaculate condition (this time he noticed there were _two_ complimentary chocolates on the pillow), Rictor paced the confined space like a desultory, anguished tiger. He had really come unglued earlier and said some awful things to Shatterstar. Most of it was attributed to his continued self-denial that he was gay (a small, hopeful part of him was still clinging desperately to the notion that all of this might still be a phase). A smaller, more bitter part had been jealous by the alien's innocuous interaction with the women at the pharmacy. When Julio looked at them; he just saw two busybody bitches invading his turf, but 'Star had been clearly interested in the blond. It showed in his body posture and the way his blue eyes deepened in color. Ric might as well have driven him off into the woman's arms with his immature conduct. For all he knew, 'Star had already left to go in pursuit of her. Or maybe she had followed him back to the hotel. One phone call from the lobby would be all it would take for a rendezvous.

Rictor told himself he was being ridiculous, but it only made his anxiety worse. He could almost picture 'Star screwing Amanda over the back of the sofa, or spread out on the dining room table (credit those images to some really grainy thirty second Internet porn clips). The more he thought about it, the more crazed he became. He had never been in a real relationship before. His flirtatious friendship with Boom Boom while with X-Factor and later with Rahne during their stint as New Mutants had led to some fevered arguments over his overly-possessive nature. He was now in a sexual relationship with Shatterstar and still acting like some dumb, horny kid. The alien didn't need someone like Ric to put him down and tell him what to do. What he needed most was understanding and comfort and reassurance because this was all new to him, too, and Rictor had seriously dropped the ball.

"Joder," Ric murmured, wondering how he could possibly make things right again.

* * *

Once he locked the door to his suite, Shatterstar immediately walked over to the phone and dialled a number from memory. _"_ _Thank you for calling Xavier's Institute for Gifted Students,"_ the automated switchboard greeted in a pleasant female voice. _"If you know the name or extension of the party you wish to speak to, please say it now."_

"Cable," 'Star barked. "Summers, Nathan."

" _Hold, please, while your call is being transferred."_

About ten seconds after that was Cable's terse voice: _"What is it?"_

"It's Shatterstar. I require immediate evac. ASAP."

There was a long pause as that brusque request was being considered. Cable was not a man who took to being ordered at very well. _"Are you under attack?"_

"No, I'm bored. I miss my swords. And I do not want to be stuck in this fekting city any longer!"

" _Where's Rictor?"_

"What difference does _that_ make? He can go back on a plane to Mexico for all I care. Get me out of here!"

" _Nope."_

'Star couldn't believe what he just heard. "What did you say?"

" _I said: 'Nope'. I'm not picking you two up until tomorrow at noon. If you're having problems with him, you work it out tonight. I don't need that shit messing up the team. Deal with it,"_ the silver-haired mutant said shortly and hung up.

Staring at the buzzing cordless phone in his hand for a few seconds in disbelief, the alien slammed it down on the recharging base hard enough to break it. With a livid curse, he raised his hand again, squeezed it into a fist and drove it completely through the set and down through the wooden table. If he'd been armed with his swords, the level of property damage to his suite might have been extreme. He could feel himself starting to vibrate, a low level buzz filling the room, but without his weapons as a conduit for his mutant ability he would only injure himself if he released that energy. It took effort, but he submerged the power and stood in the living room, flushed and trembling in anger. 'Deal with it', Cable had said. _Deal with it how?_

His faded blue eyes searched the suite restlessly before they finally settled on a target. The last eleven months dedicated to studying earth television helped to fill in the rest of the blanks and got him moving.

* * *

Rictor heard some strange things coming from 'Star's suite. At first, it had sounded like shouting, then as if something was being bashed to pieces. Then ... silence. The silence was the worst because 'Star got up to some damned stupid shit when he was left on his own; try to castrate himself, run away, attempt suicide. That last one was the worst because it drove home just how similar the two actually were in temperament. How many times had Julio contemplated that act, particularly during and after his torture from The Right?

Now, Rictor was no longer plagued by images of his best friend screwing Amanda. It was of the alien slitting his wrists or smothering himself, or something equally unlikely but terrifying to think about. At one point, Ric went out into the hall to break into 'Star's suite, but he caught sight of the camera monitor in the corner and retreated back inside his room. If he got into trouble, he'd never hear the end of it from Cable. He paced around a little more and went to the connecting door between their suites. He rattled the lock apart but still couldn't open it. It felt like something heavy had been placed against it on the other side to prevent this kind of entrance. The entertainment center, probably.

In desperation, Ric went out on the balcony. There was about twenty feet of distance between his and the one to 'Star's suite. Too far to jump, but maybe ...

Rictor placed a hand against the side of the building and activated his power, feeling his skin attracted to the stone and sticking to it. He took off his shoes and socks and climbed the wrought iron of the terrace and slapped his hands and bare feet against the bricks, gravitating his body to the stone and desperately hugging the building. "Rictor-man, Rictor-man, does the same as a spider can," he sang in a sickly, off-key voice as he shuffled his body across the twenty foot gap between suites. He had never tried this before and made damned sure not to look down, knowing he was on the sixth floor. He didn't have a healing factor capable of protecting his body against the trauma best known as ' _splat_ '.

By the time he made it to the neighbouring balcony, his entire body was soaked in sweat. His hair was hanging in limp strings around his face and he was panting from a combination of effort and terror. He went to the balcony doors. " _No me chingues,_ " he muttered in disbelief when he discovered the doors locked. He knocked on them in desperation, trying to peer in through the gap of the closed curtains. "Oye, 'Star! Let me in, dude!"

After a few minutes, he pointed his finger at the lock and prayed that he wouldn't shatter the glass as he vibrated the locking mechanism. It rattled apart with deceptive ease but also created a spider web of cracks in the heavy glass. With a sigh, Rictor pulled the doors apart and entered the suite. "I swear to god, if I went through all this trouble just to find you taking a bubble bath, I'm gonna-" he faltered, staring at the dining table. There had to be the suite's entire stock of little alcohol bottles sitting there, at least forty different brands of spirits, all empty.

"'Star?" Rictor found the alien lying on the couch; the television was on playing a marathon of Seinfeld. "Hey Gav? You okay?" He knelt beside the couch and lightly slapped one flushed cheek, getting no response. At least the Mojoworlder's pulse was strong and steady, he was just in a drunken stupor. For him to get into that state with a healing factor meant that he would have had to chug all of those bottles down in a matter of minutes. Ric sank heavily to the floor beside him and decided to wait it out, his thoughts dark and heavy.

It took less than an hour for 'Star's system to react to the abuse. He gradually came awake and squinted at Rictor, blinking slowly.

"'Star?" Julio asked in concern. "Are you okay? How're you feeling?"

"... sick ..." came the answer and Rictor wasted no time hauling the lighter teen to his feet and drag him into the bathroom. They barely made it in time before 'Star bent over the toilet, emptying his liquor-filled stomach in miserable bodily heaves that made even the Mexican, who was no stranger to the act, wince in sympathy.

"What were you thinking?" Ric finally asked when the toilet was flushed and the alien was resting his forehead against the blissfully cool porcelain. "Getting drunk like that?"

"Earth vids glorify escape through alcohol," came the rough, slightly slurred answer. "Thought I'd try it."

"What on earth were you escaping from?"

"The betrayal of my best friend calling me a dog."

"Gav ..." Julio reached to grab his arm and had his hand violently slapped away.

"Dlo ma schamik hez," the alien growled at him.

"What's that mean?"

"Ask Cable." 'Star struggled to get to his feet. He had to grab the sink to right himself and leaned heavily against it as his surroundings swayed and doubled around him.

"I'm really sorry-"

"Go back to your room, Rictor."

"I'm trying to apologize."

"I don't want to hear it. If you won't leave on your own, I'll make you-" his stomach lurched and he was down on his knees again, retching into the toilet in great whooping gasps.

"Yeah. You're in fine shape to kick my ass," Rictor said with a sigh.

"Give me an hour," the alien said, spitting into the basin. "I'll make it a reality."

"'Star, I'm not here to fight. I acted like a real jerk before and I'm trying to make it up to you."

"I don't want to look at you. Get out."

"I know it might be a stretch considering the shape you're in right now, but try to remember how I helped you through all that Russell bullshit. Try to think about the times we've each helped each other out during X-Force. I'm your friend. I always will be. I wasn't thinking when I said-"

" _I am not a dog!"_ 'Star cried in dismay, falling backwards against the tub, almost cracking his head a good one as he went down. He pulled his knees up to his chest and covered his face with his hands. "I am not property to be forced to dance. No one tells me what to do anymore! _I'm free!"_

Rictor kneeled down in front of him. "Oh Gav, please-"

" _GET OUT!"_ 'Star screamed, his face flushed and streaked with tears and this time Julio didn't argue. He couldn't have even if his smart mouth had been capable of forming words. He got up and retreated from the room.

But he didn't leave the suite. He went back to the couch and kept a close eye on the bathroom. After about twenty minutes, Shatterstar emerged and slowly, carefully made his way into the bedroom. Rictor waited another half hour before he walked into the room and sat beside him on the bed. The alien wasn't sleeping, he was too sick for that, but he rolled over and deliberately gave the Hispanic his back.

"When I was in Mexico, I asked my uncle Gonzalo where Salvatore Desoto was," Julio finally spoke up, staring sadly at the far wall. "Salvatore wasn't any relation of mine. He was just an old friend of my dad's, but he had always been a nice guy to me when I was a kid; buying me ice cream, or giving me some quarters for arcade games. Before I ran away from home, Sal was Gonzalo's right hand man. My uncle wouldn't tell me what happened to him, just that he was dead. I finally got the story from a prick named Jake Martinez. They somehow found out that Sal was secretly gay. _'_ _Salvatore el un pinche hoto'_ was how Jake put it. They could have just kicked him out of their territory but, oh no, they had to make him an example to all the other crime families. They stabbed him in the crotch fifteen times, cut his dick off and stuffed it in his mouth, and then shot him through the head. They threw his body out in the desert somewhere to be picked apart by coyotes and buzzards like he was nothing more than road kill. My _uncles_ ordered that done to him. Just because he was gay."

Rictor looked over his shoulder and saw that 'Star was staring at him in shock. "I'm terrified of being found out, Gav. I'm the only son of the original crime boss. Do you know what that means? You have no idea how scared I am. That's why I freaked out when you were so casual about it in that pharmacy. You didn't know any better, I know that now, but it still scares the shit out of me that word might somehow get back to my family and I'll meet the same end as poor ol' Sal: Stabbed in the nuts and murdered just because he was-was-" His voice broke and he dropped his face to his hands and wept for a man he had known as a child and who had treated him kindly when even members of his own family had not. "I want to get back at Gonzalo and the others for doing that to him. I want to hurt all of them. But I-I'm too scared," he whispered.

'Star sat up and wordlessly laid his forehead against Rictor's back.

"I lied to you, 'Star, back when you were in the infirmary, before Cable unleashed Russell on you. I _did_ call the mansion, and that bullshit with Bishop was true, but I didn't bother to try again after that. I was home and I was enjoying myself. I went back to being just a Mexican kid again; goofing off, enjoying the sun and playing in the pool, but it all came back when I was told about poor Sal. That happened about four days before Theresa called. It brought things back to reality: My family is bad news. I'm a mutant. I have obligations with X-Force. And ... I'm gay. It was time to come back, but I wasn't sure what I was gonna say to you. I really let you down. Some friend I am, huh?"

"What happened to me is not your fault."

"No? You're telling me that having me to talk to wouldn't have helped with what you were going through? With Jimmy? With the Gamesmaster?"

Shatterstar pulled away and didn't say anything for a long while. Finally, he rubbed his eyes and sighed. "You wanted to return home to your family. I can only suspect the emotional implications of such a reunion. I did not have parents, and I killed all my crèche-mates. I cannot fault you for wanting to be happy, Julio."

"Yeah, but you deserve to be happy, too, and this has been a lousy month for you. I really dropped the ball-"

"Sports were not involved in-"

"I let you down," Ric corrected. "Big time. I shouldn't have left. I should have tried harder to keep in touch. I should have come back sooner. I-"

"The both of us are unused to gestures of trust or friendship. Mistakes are expected to occur."

"Dios, I hate it when you talk like some unemotional Vulcan!" the Mexican snapped. "You should hate me right now. You should go back to shouting at me and telling me to get out of your room. To stay out of your life!"

"Why?" 'Star asked directly. "Because it is treatment you are accustomed to? I will not do it. We have already quarrelled and further conflict just makes the ache in my head worse. As far as I'm concerned the situation has been resolved to my satisfaction."

"I don't deserve you," Julio muttered, dropping his eyes to the floor again. "As a friend or-or anything else."

"It is as you said: You came back. You helped me with Russell. You got the Gamesmaster to release me. No one else managed such a feat. You are my friend and... whatever else you wish us to be, Julio." He almost added, 'Because I am yours', not meaning it as a proclamation of affection but one more directed towards ownership. He was designed as a slave and still found it difficult to shake the concept of freedom, accustomed to taking direction from someone else. Rictor was the independent, strong-willed one of the pair, despite appearances to the contrary, and 'Star was emotionally dependant on that direction. Fortunately, he was smart enough not to call attention to it, anticipating the reaction such an admission might cause. Rictor would probably react very badly to the reality that, as much as 'Star viewed him as a friend, the word 'master' wasn't very far removed from the alien's mind.

"Look, about before... I wasn't calling you a dog, Gav. It was a poor choice of words. And I'm not trying to boss you around, really I'm not. I've got a big mouth and a short fuse and I don't know shit about relationships. I don't blame you one bit for being angry with me. I'm sorry."

There was still no acknowledgment of any of his apologies from the alien and Rictor figured he had messed things up for good until 'Star finally spoke up, his words carefully thought out as he said; "Shortly after I joined the Cadre Alliance, I witnessed a coupling between two soldiers. One was a half-blind medic named Ravage and the other a one-armed female scout. She was to sacrifice herself later that evening on a suicide bomb attack against a cadre of Mojo's Imperial Protectorate that had invaded our territory. The day after her passing, I asked Ravage why he had foolishly chosen to be intimate with someone who he knew was going to cancel herself in such brutal fashion."

"What did he say?" Rictor said when the alien had fallen silent again.

"Nothing. He punched me in the stomach and walked away."

"Why are you telling me this, 'Star?"

"Because I don't know shit about relationships, either."

Rictor turned around in place and looked at Shatterstar in surprise. In the span of a few short hours, the alien had made the progression from being an insensate drunk, sick, maudlin, and now looked to be in the recovering stages of brutal hang-over, but at least he was sober again. "I dunno. I think you're adjusting to all of this better than I am."

"If something I said were to ever place you in jeopardy, Julio, I would never forgive myself for it. I will not betray your secret. I'm sorry too, for my words to the women. I was ..." 'Star offered a ghost of a rueful smile. " ... happy."

There was no one on the planet who deserved to experience happiness more than 'Star and Julio felt awful to have ruined that rare moment for him. He moved in for a kiss only to have the alien draw away from him. "Aw jeez, Gav. I really meant it when I said-"

"It's not that. My mouth tastes like I've tongue-bathed a Spineless One."

"That's ... Oh wow, man, that's really gross."

"Try doing it."

Rictor looked at him sharply, wondering if that was more of the alien's dry brand of humor but 'Star didn't look like he was in any shape to crack a joke. Deciding to sidestep the sensitive topic of the Mojoworlder's deviated ownership, Julio decided to keep the mood light. "You know what you need? Spicy chilaquiles! They're a sure-fire cure for a hangover."

'Star was beginning to look a little green at the suggestion. "I don't think so, Julio-"

"It's almost suppertime anyway. I'll order up a batch," Ric said, reaching for the phone beside the bed. "You'll love 'em. Muy Abuelita used to use jalapeño peppers smothered in queso fresco and crema in a special recipe that she- Gav ...?"

With a burst of superhuman speed, Shatterstar leapt off the bed and was back in the bathroom throwing up again. With a sigh, Rictor called in the order but, as things turned out (perhaps mercifully), the kitchen didn't know how to prepare chilaquiles so Julio had to settle for quesadillas instead. 'Star wanted nothing to do with the meal. He sat on the couch and watched television with the volume turned extremely low while Rictor ate beside him. "I gotta say, chabòn, I thought you'd be able to handle your booze better than this."

"Hard liquor appears to interact negatively with my design. _Severely_. I will never drink again." He flashed Rictor a disgruntled glance as other teen chortled in amusement. "What?"

"Congratulations. You just passed another rite of being a teenager: The regret of drinking too much and the after-effects that come with it."

"You mean how I'm feeling is _normal?_ "

"Yep. Afraid so. I did this to myself yesterday, so I know exactly what you're going through. Here," he handed over a package of saltines. "This'll help settle your stomach."

" _Datreb_." 'Star began nibbling at the dry crackers.

"Y'know, you told me a while back that you would teach me that Cadre language. Still interested?"

The alien looked at him, startled. "Very much. It would be a comfort to be able to speak it with another."

"Cool. I already know 'fekt' so I guess I'm half-way there," Rictor joked.

'Star smiled. "It does apply to most situations." He took control of the remote and began a roundabout lesson on the language using various show titles and certain situations that were displayed and translated the words and meanings as he scrolled through the channels. That lasted about an hour before they realized that they had access to Pay-per-view porn and that ended the alien language lessons right then and there.

" _¡A huevo!"_ Rictor said in excitement, scrolling through the movie selection list. "I've gotten so used to being locked out by Domino I never thought to check and see if I had access here. What d'ya want to watch?"

There was a peculiar expression on the alien's face. "How violent is it?"

"Violent? It's just movies about people having sex."

"Consensual?"

Rictor was really looking at his best friend closely right now. "Well ... yeah, of course. What the hell are you talking about?"

"There were different forms of entertainment on my world, as I've told you. The slaughter games were my specialty, but there were other battle arenas that catered to more perverted tastes."

"You didn't participate- you never had to-"

"No. I'm an elite combat model held in exclusive contract to entertain only during primetime programming. Besides, it took a completely different slave design to in perform in the Deviate Zone. I would have been deemed unworthy."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

'Star made a vague gesture to his groin. "Too small."

"Dude, believe me, you are _not_ short-changed in that department. No way in hell."

As ever, when the subject rolled around to this type of content, he was left floundering but surged on anyway. "I am well within specifications for my design-type. Deviates, however, were particularly altered." He saw that confusion was still on his friend's face and added, "They were 'well-hung'."

"How big are we talking about?"

"A foot and a half. Sometimes two. It was a running joke among my gladiatorial cell that they would not make good fighters because all they would do is trip over it."

Rictor slapped his hands over his face and groaned. "Oh, those poor women."

'Star frowned at him. "Women?"

"That's what those-those exhibitions were all about, right? Guys chasing after women and-and doing ... things to them."

"There were no women involved. They were regarded as invaluable genetic liaisons. They would have been too fragile for such displays anyway. This was chiefly among males and bioscience creations endowed with characteristics of both genders. They battled without clothes or weapons except for what the Whitecoats physically gave them. The losers were taken. Mercilessly."

It finally dawned on Rictor that his friend was talking about something a lot more disturbing than mutants running around with giant schlongs. He looked at 'Star with dawning horror on his face. "... They were raping each other?"

'Star nodded.

"And you-you watched this?"

"All vids are broadcasted constantly on my world. They are everywhere. I have been forced to watch such things since my First season. I may be desensitized to it, but it doesn't mean I enjoyed witnessing it. Their struggles were brutal and lacked honor."

It explained why 'Star never reacted to anything he saw on the television; slasher flicks, comedy, sci-fi, drama, documentaries. He processed the data, extracted what he thought was relevant, and simply discarded the rest, the expression on his face never changing. Ric ran a hand through his hair and, not for the first time, vowed that if he ever got within range of using his powers on Mojo, he was going to shake that sick pervert from the inside-out. "Earth porn is a lot tamer than that, with really bad acting and lousy music. Nothing more graphic than what we got up to last night."

The alien appeared to consider it. "What we did was very graphic."

"Well, yeah." Rictor betrayed a leering grin. "Be a shame to let those condoms we bought today go to waste. How's your head feeling?"

'Star rubbed his temple. "It's still aching."

"Wasn't talking about that one," Ric said enigmatically, laying a hand on his friend's thigh. The perplexed look he got in return was hilarious.

They called up some hardcore movie with a provocative title and fast-forwarded through the poorly scripted chit-chat until the clothes were off and the onscreen groping began. 'Star was fixated on the actions of an actor licking at the slick pussy of a large-bosomed brunette. Rictor was thoroughly interested in a well-hung stud getting a sloppy blowjob by some eager blond. Despite the varied turn-ons that interested either teen, the end result was the same: They were both hard and horny and put the movie on pause as they went down on each other.

That set the pace for the rest of the evening. By their second movie they never bothered watching the end of it before they retired to the bedroom and fooled around in earnest. By design, or simply as a result of his conditioning, 'Star preferred to bottom when it came to the actual act of intercourse and Rictor was more than happy to oblige. The porn videos demonstrated positions they wouldn't have thought of on their own and 'Star's inhuman flexibility even heightened others that might have been considered dull. It was only at the end, when Rictor was completely spent, that 'Star relented to top simply because he was capable of climaxing more times than his human partner. By the time he was finished, they were both out for the count and fell immediately asleep where they lay.

At some point during the early hours of dawn, Rictor woke up and pulled the coverlet up over their nude bodies. He rolled over on his side and considered the face of the teen close beside him. 'Star looked so relaxed and peaceful when he slept, with his long hair spilled out across the pillow and hanging in his face. Ric pulled a few tendrils aside and tenderly kissed the warrior's forehead, then above each red eyebrow, the tattooed cheek, even the tip of his nose. When he reached his lips, 'Star was awake. Without pause they kissed, slowly and fondly, with no trace of the impatience and eagerness of the previous two nights. Their tongues mated and the tips flicked together in a playful dance that was teasing and flirtatious. Eventually their hands began wandering along each other's toned arms and bodies. There were no words exchanged between them; it was all about touch and comfort and something that went far beyond the boundaries of mere friendship that neither were willing to admit to feeling this soon in the relationship. But it was there; in each gentle caress and shared breath and gratified moan. It was there, almost palpable.

Rictor rolled on top of the redhead who spread his legs to let their erections rub together. The addition of some lube made their mutual gyrations a pleasurable context to their deep kisses and gentle stroking. 'Star reached down with his larger hand and encircled both organs in a tight slippery grip and they slowly hunched together in mutual bliss, neither in any hurry. They wanted to extend this sweet intimacy for as long as physically possible, grinding against each other in short, evenly paced motions. When they finally shot off together, they gasped their pleasure into each other's open mouths. After that, they simply laid in each other's arms long after it was over.

"Me haces feliz, Julio," 'Star finally whispered, his words so low that the other teen, even with his head resting on his chest, had to strain his ears to hear.

"Ay Gav, estoy loco por ti," Ric responded, kissing that salty hard skin. There were other words he wanted to say, straining to get out, but he bit them back and felt bad for doing so because he knew that if 'Star was female, he would have said them by now without hesitation. His personal fears kept his declaration generalized. "I'm crazy about you" wasn't "I love you" but it was as close as he could manage at this point in time. The alien seemed to be content with that, falling back asleep with a ghost of a smile on his handsome face. Not long after, Julio followed suit.

According to 'Star, Cable was going to pick them up at noon. Knowing what a stickler the mutant was about punctuality, the youths were up on the hotel roof by eleven-thirty waiting for the arrival of the PACRAT.

"I'm glad we had these two days together," Ric said. They were sitting side-by-side on a ledge. "Once we're back at the mansion, there's not going to be a whole lot of chances for alone time for us."

"I know, but we'll each be kept so busy we'll hardly notice."

Rictor cast the redhead a disapproving scowl.

'Star offered him a weak shrug. "I'm trying to be optimistic."

"Well, don't. It's going to be hell trying to keep my distance from you and act like we're just buddies again. And there's also the issue of the girls, too."

"What about the girls?"

"You like them, remember? Me, there isn't anybody else at the mansion I'm attracted to, but for you- _Shit._ The entire mansion is full of tits and ass. I know we haven't talked about-about _us_ , so there's nothing really stopping you from hooking up with any of them."

"I would not do that to you, Julio."

"Not even if Feral suddenly came back?"

The alien looked away, puzzling over that scenario. That indecision did not go unnoticed by the Hispanic so he surged on ahead with; "I guess what I'm trying to say is... you and me, if-if it's okay, do you want to consider us like ... dating?" Rictor's face was a deep crimson and he could barely make eye contact with the other teen while he fidgeted in place and coughed out, "... Y'know, like a-a couple?"

"Exclusively?" 'Star was staring at him with bright interest.

Rictor swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Uhm ... yeah. How's that sound to you?"

"I would like that, Julio. It will help to retain my focus while we are back at the Institute knowing that you and I are monogamous."

"But you can't say anything to anyone about it."

'Star's eyes narrowed and he blew out an exasperated breath through his nostrils.

"Not that I'm telling you what to do," the Hispanic added hastily.

"You don't need to worry so much. Not anymore. Now, we share all burdens, yes?"

"I-I'd like that," Rictor said, his voice a little hoarse as he attempted a weak, hopeful smile. He began leaning in for a kiss until 'Star suddenly got to his feet. "Cable's early."

"What makes you say-" The large assault craft came out of its cloaking field and settled on the roof beside them. "Oh." He joined his friend as they walked towards the descending hatch. Cable was standing at the entrance, observing them both as they entered the craft.

"Everything okay?" he asked, glancing at them both, but his gaze lingered on 'Star.

"Yes sir," the alien responded.

"Do you mind if I check?"

"Cable, qué chingados?!" Rictor protested.

"I simply want to make sure that the Gamesmaster and Russell are really gone before we return to the mansion. After what's gone on with Shaw and Xavier, I can't take the chance-"

"It's alright. I, too, would like the assurance that Gamesmaster is truly out of my mind," Shatterstar said, sitting down in one of the seats. Cable sat across from him and placed his organic hand against the side of 'Star's head. He slipped easily into that mind, encountering the regimented flow of the alien's normal thought processes and no signs of trauma or tampering. He tripped that Mojoverse trademark brainwave again, but there was no mocking challenge to it anymore. The Gamesmaster was gone.

Ben Russell, he was astonished to discover, was not.

There was a segregated compartment filed away in the back of Shatterstar's mind that contained all of the human's memories. Without the activating consciousness to guide them, they were merely dormant remnants; like the photocopied pages of an abandoned book. Some of the memories looked rifled through more than others, but Cable was bothered that there was still such a large part of the crazed runaway left inside of 'Star's mind. Without Xavier's experience or guidance to draw on, Cable had no clue how this invading presence might hamper 'Star's mental stability in the future. There was also that puzzling question of how Russell had managed to override the alien's mutant ability with his own. There were just so many unknowns. As long as the Boston teen was inside of the Mojoworlder's head, 'Star was potentially compromised.

All of this showed on the huge mutant's face when he finally pulled out of Shatterstar's mind. "The Gamesmaster is gone. But Russell-"

"He stays," both 'Star and Julio said together.

Surprised, Cable saw the determination in the faces of both young men, although he guessed the reasons and motivations behind that choice were probably different for each of them. He was simply too relieved to see them both back in fighting form to offer much in the way of argument. "We'll discuss this when we get back to the mansion. Right now, I have something I know you'll be glad to have back," he said and handed 'Star his duffle bag.

The sight of his swords made the alien's eyes light up. He had been without them for the better part of a week and now drew them out of their sheaths and muttered a low, reverent babble of some sort of gladiatorial dialect that neither mutant had ever heard him speak before. It was almost a crooning sound as he ran a careful finger along the blades, inspecting every millimetre.

 _Now that's true love,_ Julio was thinking as sat beside him, buckling himself into his seat. In the meantime, Cable settled behind the controls and lifted off from the roof, engaging the cloak and setting a deliberate course back to Xavier's Institute. Once he was in safe airspace, he placed the craft on autopilot and electronically processed the matter of the two teenager's checking out of the hotel. His rare amiable demeanour completely disappeared when he read the itemized report of the final bill out loud; "-damage to property, excessive use of room service, replacement of balcony doors, extra housekeeping, cleaning out the mini-bar. _Pay-per-view porn?!"_ He swivelled around in his seat and stared at the two youths. "'Ass Bangers: Tampa Beach Edition' and 'Swinging Sorority Sisters'? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Busted," Rictor mumbled.

" _Damn it!_ This is exactly the kind of bullshit I get for trusting the two of you. Guess what, horny toads? The total bill for your little romp is thirty-eight hundred bucks and you're going to pay me back every single dime. Understand?"

" _Ki aibeito baz,"_ 'Star said distinctly in Cadre, still fussing over his swords.

"Dude, what's that mean?" Julio stage-whispered.

"'It was worth it'," the alien said, smiling deliberately at Cable.

The silver haired mutant turned around in his chair and held the joystick in one trembling hand. "Goddamn teenagers," he snarled under his breath while the two in the back smiled fondly at each other.

* * *

Translations:

Ric: "Salvatore el un pinche hoto" – Salvatore was a fucking homo.

Star: "Me haces feliz, Julio." - You make me happy, Julio.

Ric: "Ay Gav, estoy loco por ti." – Oh Gav, I'm crazy about you.

Ric: Cable, qué chingados?! – Cable, what the fuck?!


	21. All Good Things . . .

The team was genuinely happy to see Shatterstar and Rictor back on home soil when the PACRAT landed in the X-Men hanger of Xavier's mansion. Caliban hung back during all of the hugs and happy backslaps and finally slinked forward and lowered his head until he and 'Star were almost nose to nose. The huge, gray Morlock sniffed the alien suspiciously and licked his tongue up the redhead's cheek.

"Caliban-" Theresa began to move forward, but the warrior held up a hand to stop her. In a way, this was the ultimate test to prove whether or not he was back to his previous self and Caliban was the only one capable of putting all of their fears to rest, Shatterstar's included.

The huge mutant tasted the scent on his tongue, dissecting it in his unknown, inscrutable way and finally looked at 'Star again. Everyone collectively held their breaths.

"Friend-Star!" Caliban bellowed and swept the tall alien up into a full-body hug that would have probably broken the back of an unprepared human. "Friend-Star is back! Caliban is _sooo happy!_ "

Shatterstar was struggling in his stronger member's arms. "Put me down, Caliban! It's embarrassing. Even worse, it is an affront to my honor!"

"He's back. He's really back," James murmured to Roberto. "Oh, thank the Great Mother for _that_."

Caliban regretfully did as ordered and then began tapping the alien's head. It almost looked like he was petting him. Rictor had to submerge a smile of amusement at the mortification clearly evident on his best friend's unhappy face. He decided to slip away from the funfest before Cable broke things up and decided to give him and 'Star a private 'debriefing' on the expected morality of today's youths. Or, worse, make them sign an I.O.U.

Tabitha chased the Hispanic down until they were alone in the corridor. "So, what's going on, Ric? Are you part of X-Force again?"

"Looks like."

She made a face. "So let me see if have this straight. First, you tell everyone that you won't have Cable telepathically mucking around inside your head and then you quit. Now you're back _no problemo_?"

Rictor sighed. "I said when I left that if any of you ever needed me, I'd be back. And 'Star needed me."

"Yeah, but he's okay now. What's that mean for you?"

"It means I'm staying. If you want the truth, things didn't work out so good for me back home. Satisfied? What's it to you anyway, _Meltdown_?"

It was impossible to determine what was going on in Tabitha's face as long as she wore her mirrored sunglasses. Judging by her pursed lips, she didn't look happy. "You were only gone a month, Ric, but a lot of shit went down. Shit that we could've used your help with. Shatty had my back a couple of times when even my own team turned on me. I'm just doing the same for him."

Struggling to keep his cool, Rictor said in a neutral voice, "So your motivations are just out of friendship? Is that what you're telling me?"

Damned if her cheeks didn't flush just the slightest bit. "You don't know what it was like after you left. For us. For 'Star. If you hadn't run away when you did, he probably never would have gotten messed up with that Gamesmaster prick in the first place."

Rictor had to admit that thought had crossed his mind quite a lot ever since he got the call from Theresa. Ric hadn't handled Cable's announcement of his new approach to leadership of the team very well and 'Star had been the one who had paid for it; heart, mind, and soul. "You're right," he surprised her by saying. "I have a lot to make up for, Tabs. To him and to the team," he said in a softer voice. "I'm sorry."

"Did you tell _him_ that?"

"Si," _and so much more_ , he thought privately.

Tabitha's tense posture relaxed. "That's great to hear. I baked a Welcome Back cake when I heard you two were coming. You can be the first to have a taste."

 _Guinea pig time_ , the Hispanic though ruefully, knowing that most of her baking endeavours usually failed the first time around. Still, he was smiling when she took him in hand and practically dragged him to the kitchen. It felt good to be back among his teammates again, almost as if he'd never left.

As things turned out, Tabitha's first attempt at a red velvet cake with chocolate frosting was pretty good and, as word spread of the success, the rest of X-Force began trickling in for a piece. Cable was still in a lousy mood over the whole hotel business but Domino was in high spirits. She had skimmed over the bill and could barely look at Rictor and manage a straight face. She'd witnessed her fair share of teenaged hijinks over her considerable years, but even she had to admit that what Ric and 'Star had managed to get up to (and that was limited by the stretch of her imagination) went to the top of the list. Not many managed to get one over on Cable and lived to brag about it. Those two young studs had enjoyed two days of uninterrupted fucking all on Cable's dime. That was pretty damned impressive.

Tabitha was gushing about her baking skills. "I kind of made the cake as an homage to the both of you. Chocolate for you, Ric-"

"Chocolate! Do I look black to you?"

"Well, you _are_ very tanned," Risqué commented.

Rictor looked at her suspiciously. "Who the hell are you?"

"And-" Tabby was determined to keep the topic on track. "Red velvet for Shatty. Part of it for his red hair and part of it for that funny Clifford name Ric gave him."

"Oh, about that, guys. Whatever you do, don't call him Clifford to his face. Seriously. He takes it in a whole different way than Russell did. We almost came to blows over it."

"Why?" Domino asked.

"It's a dog reference. 'Star has a thing about being called a dog thanks to Mojo's bullshit. It really pushes his buttons."

"Shite! Somebody needs t'go warn Jimmy!" Theresa said, setting her plate down and rising from the table.

It just occurred to Rictor that James wasn't in the kitchen and neither was 'Star. "Where are they?"

"In the Danger Room," she said and they left the room at a run.

Roberto explained along the way. "Jim's been crawling the walls for a decent sparring partner. I'm too powered up for hand-to-hand and he makes Caliban cry-"

"Friend-Warpath can be very cruel with his taunts," the former-Morlock mumbled unhappily, chocolate icing smeared around his mouth.

"'Star hasn't had a decent training session since that whole Russell crap started," Bobby continued. "He asked James if they could schedule a match and Jimmy was immediately on board with it. The Danger Room was free so ..."

The group broke up into two groups; Domino and Theresa went into the control room, just in case they had to shut down a simulation or create a barrier, and the rest unlocked the main entrance and rushed inside. They all saw the same thing: James was struggling to sit up from where he'd been blasted into the far wall, the outline of his body a vague silhouette in the panelling above him. A short distance away, 'Star was kneeling on the floor and glaring at him. Both of his swords were still smouldering from a shockwave release.

Rictor hunkered down beside the big Native American and whispered, "Lemme guess. You called him Clifford?"

"Uh huh."

"He doesn't like that."

"No shit. Thanks for the tip."

Ric was still a little miffed about James' past viewpoints about the whole 'gay' teamwork thing and really didn't feel too bad about the oversight. "Any time," he said shortly.

"No one will call me 'Clifford' again!" Shatterstar told the group as he hauled himself to his feet. "I am not Russell. I do not like it! _Is that understood?"_

"Yeah, we get it, Shatty-buns," Tabitha soothed. "Loud and clear. You want some cake?"

The alien had been opening his mouth to continue his tirade and broke off, looking at her with sudden interest. A lifetime of dull protein rations on his world had made him develop a sweet tooth on Earth. It was just about the only weakness he had. "What kind of cake?"

"Red velvet. I made it because I was thinking about your hair. Your _red_ hair. Not about-" she coughed nervously, "Well, about anything _else,_ y'know?"

"Smooth," Bobby whispered under his breath, snickering at the look she flashed him.

"That would be acceptable. Thank you, Tabitha." He crossed the room and extended his hand to James and easily hauled the huge Apache to his feet. "A rematch after the break?"

Jimmy eyed him warily. "You gonna go batshit crazy again?"

"Are going to call me a dog again?"

"Not a chance!"

'Star slapped him amiably on the shoulder. "Then we will have no further conflict on the subject. Come, let us enjoy the repast and then resume training."

"Good deal," James said eagerly as they followed Tabitha out of the Danger Room.

Rictor lingered behind, smiling at the sight of his partner walking away ( _Damn! Gav has a great ass,_ he was thinking fondly) and was nudged from behind by Domino.

"You did really good with the whole Russell situation, Julio," she praised. "'Star brings a passion to the team we've been missing and you're the only one who brings out the best in him. Are you back with X-Force?"

"I couldn't leave again even if I wanted to," he sighed, and then realized who he was talking to and nervously cleared his throat. "Uhm, I mean... Yeah, I'm back."

The look that the mercenary was giving him was making him distinctly uncomfortable. He genuinely liked Domino, identifying her as a trusted maternal figure (far more than his own step-mother, that's for sure), but he still wasn't willing to say anything about him and 'Star. He had made the alien promise to keep quiet on the subject and he sure as hell wasn't going to be a hypocrite behind his back.

It was pretty evident that Dom knew anyway. She affectionately ruffled his dark brown hair, muttered something about cute horny kids, and left the room with a chuckle.

The next day, the X-Men returned to the mansion with casualties and without Xavier, but X-Force didn't have time to mingle as they went off to Latveria. It was a perplexing, time-displaced mission involving World War Two, Nazis, and the team reduced to a discorporal, ghostlike state. At one point during a rare moment when Rictor and 'Star were alone, the alien tried to touch the Hispanic on the cheek and watched with dismay as his hand went through the other. "This is inconvenient," was all he could say of the situation.

"It sure is, but I'm pretty sure we're not dead," Rictor replied. He was staring up at his friend with regret. Neither had any chance to so much as kiss since they'd returned to the mansion.

"What makes you say that?"

"I don't think ghosts get boners."

That earned him a slight smile before there was a blast of German from around a corner and they were back on the clock again. About the only good thing was that Rictor got to use his powers and it felt good to be able to cut loose like that and kick some Nazi ass. By the time they were done, they were back to their proper forms and the team was operating like a finely honed machine again, which was all that Cable could ever ask for. It was funny how one simple cog or bolt out of an engine could hobble the works and that had been the state of X-Force ever since Rictor had left, taking a crucial part of Shatterstar with him.

Returning to the mansion, it was clear that anti-mutant sentiment had escalated by the way the X-Men were agitated and fortifying the compound. By now, Benjamin Russell's attack on the S.H.I.E.L.D. soldiers had been making the rounds in Washington and covert op groups began receiving their funding and dusting off their varied arsenals. The youngest, untrained mutants in the Institute were transferred to the safety of Moir Island to join the Generation X team. The rest remained at the mansion. Shatterstar was kept doubly busy both in training and as a trainer. His weapon craft and unarmed combat skills were among the best of the group and he was often involved in sessions with other teammates, helping them in areas they lacked.

He and Theresa were engaged in a sword fighting simulation in the Danger Room. She had picked the holographic display to match her ancestral home, Cassidy Keep, and the two fenced and parried up and down the stone staircase of the castle, the clash of steel echoing off of the barren walls. It didn't take long for the alien to notice her clear lack of focus. "You're angry, Siryn."

"No, I'm not."

"Theresa, a warrior learns to read his opponent's emotional state. Your moves are growing increasingly reckless, and your lack of focus is obvious. Something is clearly bothering you."

Her green eyes blazed in anger. "I don't need ye to psychoanalyze me, 'Star."

"Better to wrestle with your inner demons before battle," he remarked and flicked her blade away with an almost backhanded parry, the sword clattering down the stairs. The point of his weapon was a millimeter from her throat. "Your emotional balance is as important as your physical equilibrium."

She frowned. "If ye'd allowed me t'use me sonic scream, I'd not be on the losing end o' things."

"Probably not, but the point of our exercise was to hone your sword fighting skills. You shouldn't depend solely on your mutant ability."

"I know, I know," she muttered, dropping her eyes.

'Star broke out into a warm smile. "Don't be discouraged, Theresa. The master swordsman who taught my gladiatorial cell swore I would never survive his class let alone Mojo's arenas. There's hope for you yet. End of session," he barked and the hologram ended and returned to the stark cube-like surroundings of the Danger Room. "Now, will you tell me what's bothering you?"

Theresa sat down on the floor and 'Star sat beside her, inspecting his blade as he always did after he used it, even in a routine simulation like this. She sighed. "It's James ... and Wade ... and men in general. I can't figure them out. I dunno, mebbe it's me. Mebbe I don't know what I want."

"I take it that you are unnerved by the relationship of James and Risqué?"

"Yeah. He was interested in me, 'Star, and I blew him off. Now that I see him in the arms of that woman, I'm getting all jealous. I mean, what's up with that?"

"Perhaps I'm not the one you should turn to for romantic advice."

"Ye still having problems adjusting to being around us girls in the mansion?" She flashed him a teasing glance.

It had been over a week and he and Julio still had not managed more then a few minutes of alone-time together; a quick grope in a hallway, a stolen kiss before maneuvers. At the very least that distraction was diverting his attention from any of the others, so he wasn't lying when he said, "It is not a bother for me anymore. I have had time to adjust."

"That's good to hear. I know ye were in a right bad shape there for awhile. Perhaps, maybe, you and I could-" Whatever she had been about to propose was interrupted by Caliban having some sort of epileptic fit. As difficult as it was to witness his stricken teammate, 'Star was privately grateful for the interruption, lost in thought.

Late that evening, Rictor was standing on the far side of his bedroom with his ear pressed against the wall. Sam Guthrie was in the mansion now that the X-Men were back home and he was in Tabitha's room, which was right beside Ric's. It didn't sound like they were talking. It sounded like ... "I don't believe it," Julio muttered, pacing his room. He was crawling the walls in sexual frustration and picturing two of his friends getting it on wasn't helping his mental state. He wanted to cross the hall and go to 'Star's room, but the alien's next door neighbor was James, he of the superhuman hearing.

"¡Chale! Qué chinga!" Ric muttered under his breath. He raised his hands and slapped them to his sides in frustration. "¡Chingada madre! Voy a hacerme la chaqueta." He was walking over to the bed to begin the act when there was a deliberate tapping at his window. His body froze in mid-step. He was on the third floor. _Who the hell-?_

He pulled open the curtains and saw a pair of hands holding onto the windowsill. "'Star?" he asked in disbelief when he pulled open the window. "What're you doing?"

"Do you want to get out of here?" the alien asked in Spanish, making no effort to pull himself up.

"Yeah," Ric responded helplessly. "Where can we go?"

"I know a place. Meet me down on the lawn." 'Star pushed himself off the wall and executed a lithe back flip to land in a silent crouch on the grass far below.

"Me caes de güevos güey," the Hispanic said with a broad grin. He paused long enough to grab a few things from the drawer of his nightstand and climbed out of the window. He activated his power and climbed down the stone wall to the ground. 'Star was thunderstruck. "When did you learn to do that?"

"At the Marriot Hotel. It's how I got over to your balcony that night you got hammered." He pulled 'Star's head down and kissed him. "Man, it feels like that happened a year ago. I missed you, buddy."

"I missed you, too. I could not wait anymore. James and Risqué have been coupling for the last hour, keeping me awake."

"I'm pretty sure Tabby and Sam are hooking up in the room beside mine. Theresa was buzzing away earlier. Cable and Domino share quarters. It's not fair. They all get beds and we have to do it in the woods like some homeless bums."

"It is your choice, Julio."

"Yeah, I know. Times like this it comes back and bites me on the ass."

"No, in short time that will be _me_ and we do have a place to go," 'Star said and moved across the lawn with that unnatural speed of his. Ric managed to catch up when they entered the lush woods. "The bunker where Feral and I had sex is not very far," the alien told him. "I checked it earlier and disabled the sensor connecting it to the mansion security system. I also disconnected the security camera."

"You mean you and Feral were on video?"

"According to Cable, yes."

"Oh shit! I'm surprised he didn't go blind in his good eye!" Ric chuckled.

"I'm more surprised he didn't interrupt us," 'Star admitted, easily negotiating his way through the pitch black woods while the Hispanic stumbled and crashed his way through the underbrush along side of him. Stopping at a predetermined location, 'Star reached down for the hatch and hauled it open. "You first."

Ric wasted no time crawling down the ladder and 'Star followed after him, swinging the heavy metal door closed and locking it. In their urgency neither noticed Wolverine, who was on patrol in the woods. The X-Man saw them as they rushed past, not even making the effort to hide from view. He watched the two disappear down into the bunker and shook his head in disbelief as he continued on his way. "Friggin teenagers," he rumbled under his breath.

When Ric stepped off the final rung, he activated the floor plate and the emergency lights came on, illuminating a room that was sparsely furnished but, really, the old futon was all they needed. "So this was you and Feral's little love nest, eh?"

'Star was pulling the futon from the wall and setting the mattress to a horizontal position. He stopped what he was doing and looked curiously at the Mexican. "Does that bother you?"

"No," Ric said, running a hand along the faux-suede material. "It's actually kind of a turn-on. The thought of you two getting it on down here. Russell told me that even while you two were screwing, you were thinking about me-"

"That's true. I was imagining you joining us."

"What? You mean like a- _a threesome_?"

"I believe Maria would have enjoyed that. She was a resourceful individual with incredible vitality. The three of us would have had a great deal of fun," the alien said with a wistful expression on his face. He became aware that Julio was looking at him closely. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Oh wow, Gav. You've, like, got me so turned on right now," the Hispanic said in an unsteady voice. He pulled the alien close and kissed him impatiently, grinding his rock-hard crotch against the taller teenager's thigh. He ran his hands underneath of 'Stars' shirt, deliberately drawing his fingernails down the ripped muscles of his pecs and stomach and stopped at his belt, impatiently unbuckling it and working at the fly. When that half-hard meat came into view, Julio dropped to his knees and took that dick into his mouth. By the time it was 'Star's turn to reciprocate, they were both naked and crazy with desire. They fell onto the dusty futon and made full use of it and the condoms they brought. At least down here, they didn't have to keep their voices down like the others back at the mansion. And they didn't.

By the end of it, they traced each other's bodies with their hands and kissed affectionately. They didn't want to pull apart and begin the act that would separate them again but knew they had no choice. Just like their early morning bonding at the Marriot, Julio felt his heart surge with emotion but was too apprehensive to express how he really felt for the virile warrior. It wasn't out of fear of rejection, or disdain, or ridicule. Clearly, 'Star felt the same way but it was all so new for the both of them. They each expressed their mutual affection in their vague, roundabout way and returned to the mansion in far better spirits than how they'd left.

In the days that followed they managed two more frenzied trysts in the bunker before the shit hit the fan.

Caliban's seizures got worse and he was taken off the active roster. Risqué revealed her true colors and betrayed the group, to James' utter mortification. He left the group to go to Detroit, Michigan on a personal quest. A new organization called Zero Tolerance proved to be a viable threat. At the command of an enigmatic man called Bastion, a troop of humanoids called Sentinel Primes; cyborgs equipped with advanced mutant-hunting technology, stormed Xavier's Institute without warning and with surprisingly little opposition. In short order, the premises were under their control. Cable was stranded in the underbelly of the mansion, trying to get a stricken Caliban to safety before they could be detected and/or killed.

On a separate mission in Missouri; Rictor, Meltdown, and Shatterstar were taken prisoner and placed in stasis tubes for transport and examined by mysterious doctors. Domino was captured, taken to a separate facility, and operated on. In the span of less than a day, X-Force was left completely in tatters.

Rallying together, Siryn, Sunspot, and undercover S.H.I.E.L.D. operative Dani Moonstar tried to track down their missing teammates and managed to find three of them in a convoy travelling across New Mexico. Ric, 'Star, and Tabby were freed. Suffering from days of sedation, the trio were understandably disoriented from their imprisonment and needed evac. Cable picked them up and retrieved a traumatized Domino from a truck stop in Oklahoma. He decided to take everyone to a safe house located in a secluded part of North Carolina's Blue Ridge Mountains.

"We've been severely compromised," he told the six youths once everyone had a chance to settle in. By that point, Domino had already left the cabin, deciding to head out on her own until she could determine what had been done to her. Her sudden abandonment did not bode well to the now-low morale of the bewildered team. "Most of the computer files in Xavier's Institute have seen seized. They're encrypted in Shi'ar but it's only a matter of time before Bastion cracks the files. That makes this a dangerous time to be operating as openly as we have been. Therefore, I propose we go underground."

Of them all, Bobby managed to find his voice first. "You mean you want us to hide out like we're in the Witness Protection Program?"

"I put this team together so that there would be a group of mutants uniquely trained to deal with the great conflict to come," Cable told them. "I can't afford to lose _any_ of you. When we resurface, we'll have the element of surprise on our side."

At some point in the past, he had taken the time to prepare new identities for each member of the team; new social insurance numbers, driver's licenses, names, and even back stories. He handed out envelopes to each individual. Siryn and Dani expressed their displeasure of such a drastic action. Meltdown laughed at her new name, but it was Roberto who voiced out loud what they were all feeling at that moment: "We already have to conceal the fact that we're mutants if we want to live any semblance of a normal life. Now you're telling us that we can't even use our own names? I can't think of a scenario more demeaning than that."

"This is just a temporary thing," Cable said, trying to assure them. "All of you just need to lay low and not draw attention to yourselves. Eventually, at a safe time, we'll regroup and strike back stronger than ever."

"How long are you talking? A week? A month?" Tabitha asked. When she didn't receive any response, she almost shouted, " _A year?_ You expect us to hide like some kind of criminals until we hear from you when it's safe to come out? Are you serious? Count me out."

Rictor ripped his file in half. "That's your problem, Cable. You think that just because your whole life is some holy war, you think the rest of us are your faithful crusaders hanging on your every word. I originally came back to make sure Shatterstar was okay. If X-force is over, it's time I returned to Mexico. I've got personal business to deal with down there."

Shatterstar was immediately by his side, his face impassive. "Julio's my friend, and I would rather offer him my sword arm than have it atrophy from disuse."

Ric had to struggle to submerge his pleased grin. "Consider that two more 'no's, Cable."

Cable continued to spin his pitch but nobody was listening. Siryn finally spoke for all of them when she made it clear that Cable had trained them to be independent and to fend for themselves and it would be impossible to suddenly bottle up all that enthusiasm to become subservient and successfully stay under the radar. It was no longer in their natures. They were mutants, and proud to be so, and they were not going to hide from anyone, damn the consequences. "Seems t'me that with all our training - the training ye gave us- we can handle whatever comes our way," she finished.

Cable saw the resolve in each of their faces, but he didn't take it well.

"You're right, Theresa," he said, bowing his head in surrender. "Each drill and every field mission you were assigned were intended to give all of you the skills and training so that one day you could stand on your own, as individuals _and_ as a team." He walked slowly to the front door. "It appears that day has come ... sooner than I expected. Be careful."

With that terse send-off, he walked out of the cabin*. (See End note)

* * *

Translations:

Ric: "¡Chale! Qué chinga!" – Damn it! What a pain!

\- "¡Chingada madre! Voy a hacerme la chaqueta." – I've had it! I'm going to jerk-off.

\- "Me caes de güevos güey." - You're awesome, dude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N: This chapter was an abridged account of events depicted in X-Force issues 64 to 70. Issue 70 (1997) was the last time Ric and 'Star (except for one cameo, and an annual) were featured in this series until its merciful cancellation in 2002.)


	22. Unhappy Anniversary

"He took off!" Tabitha fretted, standing with her hands on her hips and staring up at the night sky. "And he took the PACRAT with him! Can you believe that?"

"Yes," Rictor grumbled. By now, all six young men and women were outside of the safe house, mingling around in confusion. "He just finally revealed his true colors. I warned all of you that he was a dick when I joined on, but did you listen to me? _Noooo-_ "

"Knock it off, Ric. It isn't helping," Siryn said. "Cable was only tryin' t' help us and we drove him off."

" _Pura verga_ ," the Hispanic cursed. "He had a temper tantrum because we didn't do what he wanted. It's as simple as that."

"Will he be back?" Danielle Moonstar asked curiously. She had come onboard the team in St. Louis while working undercover with the Mutant Liberation Front. She had only been with this group for four days. She knew all of them (except for Shatterstar) from her stint as a New Mutant, but it was clear that the past year had changed her friends' personalities and not necessarily for the better. The X-Force members seemed high-strung, insubordinate, and dangerous; a far cry from their mischievous, care-free days as Xavier students.

"Knowing Cable? Doubtful," Roberto said. "The man holds a grudge."

"Ye know what, guys? I just realized the date," Theresa spoke up. When the others looked at her expectantly, she said, "Today is X-Force's one year anniversary."

No one had anything to say in response to that, except for Rictor. He released a loud raspberry.

None of them had much more than the change of civilian clothes that had been stored in a closet and whatever essentials the belts of their costumes had been stuffed with at the time. The safe house was stocked with MREs, fresh water, batteries, propane canisters, and flashlights. The generator behind the cabin had a full tank of gas and was running smoothly. For now, they were comfortable, well-supplied, and safe.

After a less than celebratory meal, the group sat around the table and looked at a USA roadmap that was spread out on the table. Cable had certainly stranded them in the middle of nowhere, which was really the point of a safe house, truth be told. Looking at the map angered Rictor even more. "Man, it pisses me off to no end that when you broke us out of those stasis tubes, we were less than 300 miles from the Mexican border. Now, thanks to this remote bullshit place Cable picked out, we're almost two thousand miles away. That's really fucked up."

"Not all of us want to go to Mexico," Dani said.

"Doesn't matter to you anyway. You're not invited."

"Really nice thing to say to an old friend," Roberto said. "We're all in a pickle here, Ric. It's not just you. Calm down."

"Why don't you _b_ _eso mi culo_ -"

Shatterstar had been unusually quiet ever since Cable's abrupt departure and said distinctly: "Be quiet, Julio, or I'm going to gag you."

The Mexican snapped his head around with an astonished look on his face. _"¿!Qué hice?!"_

"Listen to Roberto and settle down. Stop being rude."

Rictor flashed him a resentful, bitter look and slumped back in his seat, crossing his arms, but at least he went silent. Dani cast him a veiled glance and then looked at 'Star, an expression of curiosity showed on her face for a moment before she submerged it.

"The nearest town is twenty miles down the mountain. Bobby and I can fly down there and pick up some supplies in the morning," Theresa said.

Now it was Tabitha's turn to pick up where Rictor left off. "If you think I'm going to live here, you are out of your freakin' mind. This dump only has one bathroom, two bedrooms, and the generator will only last us a couple of days. And those Ready-to-Eat meals suck!"

"Of course we're not going to live here, silly lass," Terry said. "We just need t'sit tight and figure out what t'do."

"Do you hear yourself? _Sit tight?!_ What have you been smoking?" Tabby snapped.

"I'm beginning to wonder the same about ye. Between you and Ric, yuir both behaving strangely-"

"We have been in stasis tubes for several days under unknown sedation," Shatterstar spoke up. "And I recall Whitecoats performing tests on us. I've shaken off the effects, but Julio and Tabitha are possibly in some sort of withdrawal."

" _Vete al infierno._ I'm fine," Rictor grumbled.

"Yeah, mind your own freakin' business, Shatty-buns," Tabby chorused.

'Star turned his gaze to Theresa and lifted his eyebrows in an unmistakable "You see?" expression.

"Both of you pick a bedroom and go lie down," Siryn ordered.

"You're not the boss of me," Tabby said. "X-Force is defunct. You can't make me-"

'Star rose to his full menacing height. "I'll use that Vulcan nerve pinch on you both if you don't go get some sleep."

Tabby scowled at him. "You wouldn't dare-" 'Star took a step towards her and she quickly got out of her seat. "Uhm, come to think of it, I _am_ kind of tired."

The warrior flashed Rictor a challenging glare and he backed off. Ric had been feeling out of sorts ever since their rescue in New Mexico but hadn't bothered to tell anyone. It figured that 'Star would have noticed something was ailing him; he noticed everything. Without a word, the Hispanic left the living room with Tabby in tow and they split up to go to the bedrooms at the opposite ends of the hall.

'Star looked after Julio with concern in his light blue eyes and didn't realize Roberto was even talking to him until he looked around. "I'm sorry. I wasn't listening."

"I just asked if you were okay."

"I'm almost at one hundred percent."

"'Almost'?"

"The sedation used on me was far more potent because of my healing factor."

"'Star, you need to go get some sleep, too."

"I'll rest after the premises are secure. The perimeter needs a sweep and there should be rotating watches set up just in case this place is compromised. Booby traps should be set out at least fifty ohn's from the compound and staggered ten ohn's apart. I will-"

"Ye'll go sleep," Theresa said firmly, grabbing his shoulder. "Ye're tired, too. Yuir practically swaying on your feet."

"But-"

"No buts, 'Star. The sofa is yours. 'Tis been an awful long day and we all need some downtime. We'll reconnoitre the area first thing tomorrow." When the tall teen didn't budge, she added with a smile, "D'ye want me t'use that Vulcan nerve pinch on ye, too, lad?"

"No," he said. "But I will take a chair and set it up by the door and sleep there. Just in case."

"That's fine," she relented, knowing it would be useless to argue.

By the time the sleeping arrangements were all worked out, it was almost midnight. Siryn killed the generator and did a final round with a flashlight. 'Star, as promised, was sitting in a chair with his back to the front door. He had one of his swords laid over his shoulder and it was imbedded through the wood of the door. Asleep, he had his head resting against the hilt. Through his weapons, he was sensitive to vibrations and the set-up was as close to a motion sensor as anything they could dream up on such short notice. Julio was deep asleep when Bobby entered the room and, rather than take the floor, he opted for comfort and grabbed a spare blanket and settled easily beside his old friend on the bed.

In the girl's room, Tabby and Dani were also sharing the one bed. Theresa settled into a chair in the corner and looked at her two sleeping friends and then around the unfamiliar room. Her eyes began swimming with tears. "Happy Anniversary," she whispered and wept silently in the dark.

Early the next morning, Rictor pulled grudgingly out of a miserable, uncomfortable slumber that had been filled with distorted faces and snatches of meaningless conversations and blinked at the unfamiliar surroundings. He barely remembered the events of the New Mexico rescue or the circumstances of their abandonment in Cable's safe-house. Whatever drugs Zero Tolerance had used on him to keep him sedated had disturbing after-effects. He still felt sluggish and out of sorts. More asleep than awake, it took him a few moments to even register that he wasn't alone in the bed.

A relieved, grateful smile crossed his weary features. He rolled over and spooned the other teen who was cocooned in a blanket. _"Buenos días, hombre guapo,"_ he murmured, nuzzling his face against the other's back. " _Umm, hueles rico."_ The individual shifted position and Julio reached around and gently cupped the other mutant's groin. " _Me estás poniendo muy caliente._ _Quieres cojer?"_

"Rictor?" asked a sleepy, incredulous voice.

Julio recoiled backwards with a cry of surprise, fully awake and realizing that it was Roberto who was in bed with him. The Portuguese mutant threw the blanket aside and sat up and stared at his friend in shock. "Ric? _What the hell-?!"_

"Sorry! I'm sorry! I thought you were-were-" His mind immediately landed on 'Star and he mentally backtracked, lost in panic mode: _TerryDaniTabbyAmara-_ "-Rahne! I thought you were Rahne!"

"Since when has Rahne ever been a 'hombre guapo'?" Portuguese and Spanish were very similar languages and it was clear that Bobby had heard, and understood, every single word. "Who did you think I was?"

"Just told you, dude. It was a mistake, that's all." Ric said, getting out of the bed. It didn't help that he had a noticeable hard-on pushing at the crotch of his jeans and he pulled his shirt out of pants to try and cover it. He was utterly mortified and unable to look Bobby in the eyes. He went on a desperate defensive. "What the hell were you doing in my bed anyway?"

"I wasn't going to sleep on the floor. I figured I was safe in bed with you," the other teen said, equally blushing. "... Guess I was wrong."

"Look, it was just a stupid mistake. Don't read anything into it, okay? _Okay?!_ "

"Who'd you think I was?" Bobby pressed. Clearly, he wasn't going to let this go. "... Shatterstar?"

Before Rictor could possibly stammer out any kind of response there was a rap of knuckles on the door, making both of them jump. "If ye boys are awake, c'mon out and we'll have breakfast," Theresa said out in the corridor. "After that Roberto and I can fly into town."

"Sounds good," Ric called out in an unsteady voice, getting to his feet. He looked at Bobby urgently, his voice so low he was practically mouthing the words: "Look, you've got this all wrong. I thought you were Rahne. That's _it!_ "

"I know what I heard, Ric-"

"You didn't hear shit! You were half-asleep. So was I. Let it go, man, I mean it. Just ... let it go." He turned around and left the room and spent the rest of the morning going out of his way to avoid any close proximity to Roberto. His mind was such a whirling vortex that it was only until breakfast was almost over when it finally dawned on him that they were missing two people. "Where are 'Star and Tabby?"

"They're out in the barn," Theresa said, trying not to gag on her MRE of oatmeal with raisins. "There's an old truck out there they think they might be able t'get working."

"It's just a single cab," Dani said. "Good enough to get us all down off the mountain and into town, but we'll need something bigger for the rest of us to travel comfortably in."

"If you get a vehicle, can 'Star and I have the truck?" Ric asked.

Dani looked at him curiously. "You both are still planning on going to Mexico?"

"Definitely." After that little incident with Bobby, Ric couldn't get out of here fast enough.

"Truck'll probably be a piece a garbage," Theresa murmured, sipping on a cup of coffee and grimacing at the taste.

"No doubt," Dani commented. "But thanks to Zero Tolerance we can't fly or take a bus. Even hitch-hiking is too risky. A crappy truck is better than nothing."

"It probably won't matter," Roberto finally spoke up. He had been unusually quiet over breakfast, still working out what had happened in the bedroom over and over in his mind. "I doubt they'll be able to get the thing-"

There was a loud backfire from the barn and then the sound of something running roughly for about ten seconds before things went quiet again.

"Forget I said anything," Bobby corrected himself. They all got up and went out to the barn.

* * *

Before the sun was even close to coming up, Tabitha discovered that she wasn't able to sleep anymore and left the bedroom to go sit in the living room looking like a person who had hoped being stranded in the mountains had been some sort of a bad dream. She sat in the darkness for an unknown length of time, silently brooding until she jumped when the front door suddenly opened. Snapping on a flashlight, she watched as Shatterstar let himself into the cabin. "Where were you?" she whispered.

"I performed a perimeter sweep," he said in a low voice, blinking as she swung the light up at his face. He deposited both of his sheathed swords on the coffee table. "Nothing suspicious. All I saw were ring-tailed vermin."

"They're called raccoons," she said absently, getting up and heading over to the kitchen. She looked over the MRE packets. "What do you want to eat? Tasteless French toast or tasteless scrambled eggs?"

"The tasteless toast sounds more appetizing."

Tabby opened two bags and filled the 'heater' elements with water and put the entree packets into them. While they cooked, she sat beside 'Star at the counter. "Man, it's hard for me to believe it's been one whole year since we all joined up together."

"In the Mojoverse we marked such milestones by the term 'seasons'. One seems comparatively short."

"Y'know, you and me are just about the only ones who managed to stick it out for that entire time. When I first met you, I thought you were cute and all, but- _damn!_ Way too intense. You've really mellowed out over that period."

"Is that a compliment?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you. Your transition appeared to have taken an opposite course than mine."

She glared at him. "You saying I got ugly?"

He blinked in confusion. "I'm speaking of attitude. When we first met, I regarded you as somewhat ... "

When his lapse continued, she impatiently snapped: _"What?!"_

"Annoying. Shallow. Somewhat vacuous-"

"Oh, thanks a lot!"

"-But over time you became a highly competent warrior. Very focused and dedicated. It was an honor to be have been your teammate, Meltdown."

"Thanks, Shatterstar." She betrayed a strained smile and rose to fish the hot packets out of their envelopes and empty the contents onto plates. "Hearing you talk like that really brings it home that X-Force is finished. It's all over. Hell, we don't even have the mansion to fall back on. It's like we're all right back to square one."

"I do not see it that way," 'Star said, eating the 'French toast' without hesitation. To him, everything tasted better than grey Mojoworld protein rations.

She pushed the 'scrambled eggs' around with a spoon, as if challenging it to fight back. "You don't?"

"No. Now we have training, and experience, and friendships to draw on. We are not lonely anymore." He was thinking of Rictor sleeping down the hall and had to betray a small smile. Soon they would be away from this place, heading to Mexico for more adventures. Just the pair of them. The more he thought about it, the more excited be became.

She set her spoon down and looked wistfully at the far wall. "God, I wish Sam was here," she sighed. "It must be even harder for you. This isn't your world or time. You must have friends back home that you miss."

He surprised her with a curt shake of the head. "My Cadre brethren were allies, not friends. I'm sure all of them are dead now anyway. I didn't make it back to my time to prevent Mojo and his Imperial Protectorate from killing them."

"Windsong, too?"

"Rictor told you about her?"

"No. Ric told James and he told me."

He shrugged. "I imagine she is dead as well."

Tabby sipped a hot chocolate and her eyes over the rim of the mug were dark and sad. "All this time, you had a wife waiting for you to return. Why didn't you ever say anything?"

It was a subject that he usually floundered badly over, especially with the importance that Earth placed on such unions which were so fleeting in the Mojoverse. "I never met her. I didn't feel anything for her. The entire arrangement was embarrassing; a pairing of two genetically superior specimens whose sole purpose was to breed and spawn the next gladiatorial stock. Fekt." He scowled in disgust.

The blunt explanation was enough to make even Tabby grimace. "I thought Mojo created you guys from ... y'know, scratch."

"I suspect a show revolving around my maturing progeny was pitched to Mojo. His chief motivation was to ensure ratings. I was his most successful star before I escaped to the Cadre. Having the opportunity to broadcast the act of my own child killing me would have been a top draw for the Audience."

Abby choked on her drink. "Oh my god!"

"So, I was in no hurry to return and because of that, they're probably all dead. I feel remorse for failing them, but I have done good on this world. I have met noble people. I have no regrets save for one; I wish I hadn't allowed Cable to so easily sway me with his promises and lies. He used me."

"He used all of us, 'Star," she sighed. "He had a commanding presence that made you want to follow him, and he took advantage of our weaknesses and used them against us. Me, I had nowhere else to go so I just went along with him. I mean, really, what else can I do? Work in a garage? My dad might've taught me a few things about cars, but I'm no Maggie the Mechanic-"

He looked up at her with sharp interest. "There is a vehicle in the barn that might be of use to us. Will you assist me to see if it is operational? My knowledge of twentieth century technology is lacking."

"I-" she balked for a few seconds before curiosity got the better of her. "Sure, I guess, but I don't really know a whole lot. Just warning you in advance."

The pair went out to the barn. Underneath of a dusty tarp was a blue thirty year-old Ford pick-up on blocks. At first glance to Tabby, it looked like a write-off: dented body, rusted frame, but closer inspection revealed that care had been taken to prepare it for storage. The fluids had been drained, and the battery taken out. There were bottles of radiator, brake, and transmission fluids and an unopened container of oil on the worktable.

She offered a dazzling smile to the Mojoworlder. "Y'know what? I think we can do this!"

He returned the smile. "Just tell me what to do," he said.

The two worked together to get the vehicle serviceable. Getting the air out of the brake lines took up the most time. The four tires in storage all had worn threads but appeared to have decent compression. At least they weren't flat when 'Star put them on the truck. Tabby grabbed an empty gas can and a length of rubber hose and siphoned some gas from the generator behind the cabin to put in the truck's tank. When everything seemed to be done to her satisfaction, she instructed 'Star on how to put in the heavy battery. She made sure the connections were tight and then hopped in the cab and located the key, placing it in the ignition. "Okay, keep your fingers crossed."

"Why?" came the expected response.

"Never mind, it's a superstitious luck thing. Here we go!" The truck was a manual drive. She put it into neutral, put her foot down on the clutch, and turned the key. There was nothing but a dead click. "Shit," she said, climbing back out and staring at the vehicle in disgust, hands on her hips.

Shatterstar was regarding the engine. "There appears to be no mechanical malfunction. Do you think it's the battery?"

"There's a chance it might be dead, yeah. We don't have anything that can jump start it," she said, looking over at a set of jumper cables hanging on the wall. "Terry and Bobby can get us a new one in town."

"That might not be necessary," 'Star said, pulling the cables from the wall hook. "How do these connect to the battery?"

Tabby showed him. "The red one connects to the positive terminal, and the black to the frame. These other two connect directly to the battery giving the boost. See? We don't have anything we can use to- What're you doing?" she asked when she saw the alien retrieve his swords from the worktable.

"My power is bioelectric in nature. Connect the leads to either sword and to the truck battery. I'll channel some of my energy through my weapons as you attempt to start it again."

"I just want enough of a charge to make a spark, 'Star. Not blow up the freakin' barn," the other mutant said uneasily.

"Understood."

Despite her better judgment, Tabitha connected the secondary leads to both of 'Star's swords and went back into the cab. "Okay. Let's try just an itsy-bitsy power up." She waited for that low, barely audible hum to come from the alien and turned the ignition. This time there was a distinctive 'rhur' sound that meant one of two things; the battery was either on its last legs or trying to come alive. "That's great, 'Star! Just a little bit more."

Concentrating, Shatterstar channelled a minimal portion of energy through his body, down both arms to both hands and into the hilts of his swords, trying to mentally regulate the flow. This time the engine turned over. After another attempt, it backfired and ran roughly for about ten seconds before it sputtered and died. By the time the rest of the team came into the barn, the pick-up was running on its own and the two mutants were standing beside it, obviously pleased with the results.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your chariot awaits," Tabitha said, making a mocking bow to the four other youths.

"Holy crap, you two actually got the thing running," Bobby marvelled.

"I know. Isn't it amazing?" Tabby said, locking an arm around Shatterstar's waist. "The two of us should open a garage!" The look on the alien's face at the sudden close contact was almost comical.

"Wow! That's really loud!" Dani shouted above the noise. The exhaust system and muffler were obviously in rough shape.

"Nothing you can't fix without some Mexican solder," Rictor said, walking over to the worktable. He held up a roll of duct tape. "Shut it off and I'll patch it up. 'Star, can you hoist up the ass end?"

Tabby shut off the vehicle and 'Star effortlessly lifted the back of the truck so that the Hispanic could crouch underneath and patch the holes in the battered exhaust pipe.

While the Mojoworlder watched his partner go to work, he looked up in time to see Roberto staring at him with an odd expression on his face. The Portuguese mutant immediately dropped his eyes and looked elsewhere, but it had been enough. "Duct tape can be used for just about anything," Rictor was saying from underneath the truck. "I once saw on a funny Canadian show how-"

Shatterstar bent over so that he was eye-level with the other teenager while still holding up the back of the truck. "Roberto knows," he rumbled in a low growl. "How is that possible?"

Rictor froze in place, looking at the tall warrior in shock. He was going to deny anything was wrong until he saw that chilling blue regard offered absolutely no room for debate. Sometimes, 'Star's powers of observation bordered on the supernatural. "I'll tell you later."

"Are we safe?" came the stricken question. It was a fear that Julio was responsible for instilling in the other teen. Shatterstar would have been quite content with his sexual identity as an individual until Rictor's baggage turned it needlessly complicated.

"Everything's fine," Rictor whispered. He laid a hand on his best friend's arm and squeezed it affectionately, the contact lingering before he dropped it. They exchanged an anxious glance full of longing before the Mexican broke it off and went back to work. Standing off to the side listening to Tabby and Theresa argue, Dani watched the brief exchange between 'Star and Julio with an odd smile on her face.

"We now have a ride. It's time to blow this joint," Tabby said, raising her hand and generating a plasma bomb. "Literally."

"Put that away!" Theresa snapped. "For Heaven's sake, we only just got here. Cable might come back-"

"He abandoned us, Terry!" the blond yelled, her voice angry and anguished, tears springing to her eyes. Like all of them, she had been wrapped up with her fair share of hero worship for the man and, like all of them, he had let her down. "He dropped us off in the middle of nowhere and left us behind! I'm not going to stay here one more minute. _I can't!"_

"You already have mine and 'Star's vote," Rictor called out from underneath the truck.

Theresa looked at Roberto. He looked understandably sheepish. "I'm with Tabs on this one, Terry. Cable made it pretty clear that we're now on our own. There's no sense drawing it out."

That left it down to Dani but her opinion didn't really count at this point because the majority had already voted. She only offered a mute shrug on the matter.

"One more night," Theresa pleaded. "He'll come back. I know it!"

"You told him yourself," Bobby reminded her. "We don't need him anymore."

"Grab your gear," Rictor said, scrambling out from underneath of the truck as 'Star lowered the end. "It's time to go."

* * *

Translations:

Ric: "Pura verga" - Bullshit!

\- "Beso mi culo." - Kiss my ass.

\- "¿!Qué hice?!" – What did I do?!

\- "Vete al infierno." – Go to hell.

 **-** "Buenos días, hombre guapo." -Good morning, handsome man.

\- "Uhm, hueles rico." – Uhm, you smell good.

\- "Me estás poniendo muy caliente. Quieres cojer?" - You're really turning me on. Do you want to have sex?


	23. Good-Bye and Farewell

Cable returned that night, just as Theresa had predicted.

He knew from past experience that arguing with teenagers was simply an exercise in frustration and, like all children, they needed a time-out and a long nap before they were willing to see reason. He decided to give that to them. The cabin was secure and well-stocked, a perfect place for them to recharge and regroup until he returned to make them see things from his view-point. After a taste of isolation, he reasoned, they would be ready to accept his help. He had gone to the trouble of preparing their new identities and was ready to drop them off to the places where their subdued new lives could begin, complete with finances and contacts guaranteed to allow them to lay low in relative comfort.

When he landed the PACRAT in the front yard, he saw the cabin was dark and immediately went on the defensive. He stormed the building, blaster in hand just in case there were Zero Tolerance troops still inside but he found the cabin deserted. There didn't appear to be evidence of any altercation. There was a litter of empty MRE packets in the kitchen garbage and the bedrooms had been used. On the kitchen table were the team's collection of cell phones and debit cards and Cable looked down at them with dismay. He had drilled into his team how easily phone calls and bank transactions could be tracked if their group was ever compromised. They had taken the advice to heart just like they had taken all of his teachings and had left the items behind. It had probably just about killed them to do it. Teens nowadays thrived on such possessions, but they had discarded them just the same; choosing to abandon the tokens of their identity but refusing to betray their actual ones. The items lied atop the file folders that contained the new identities Cable had created for each of them. It was as poignant a sign of defiance if ever there was one.

Investigating the barn, he saw with complete shock that the truck was gone. It had been an old cast-off he had stored here, just like the Triumph motorcycle that Domino had taken. He doubted it would have been easily restored and smelled Shatterstar's hand in this, possibly also Meltdown, who was an amateur mechanic. He just hadn't expected them to get it running so damned quickly!

He sat down on the work bench and stared down at the oil-stained concrete before lowering his face into his hands in regret.

"Damn it," he whispered.

* * *

Twelve hours earlier, the six youths rolled into the city of Asheville. They pulled into a parking lot, grouped around the lowered tailgate of the Ford, and laid out what actual cash they actually possessed.

"We should have gotten at least one use out of our bank cards," Tabby groused, pulling a rumpled ten and five-dollar bill out of her bra and adding them to the pile. "Just enough to get at our savings at least."

"The Sentinel Primes and Zero Tolerance probably think we're still out west," Roberto said, rifling through his wallet. He possessed a staggering amount of credit cards but little, if any, actual money. "If they hacked our files then they know our account numbers. You want to be the one who calls their attention over here, Tabs? You gonna be the one to start the hunt on our heads?"

"But we're broke!" she wailed, watching the others provide whatever spare change and bills they had kept on their person while in uniform. In this day and age of convenient plastic, nobody carried much cash anymore (if any at all).

Nobody except for the only member of the team who wasn't from their world and had never understood the concept of banking institutions. Shatterstar unscrewed the hasp of his double-bladed sword and pulled out a huge wad of bills, setting it down with the rest of the money.

" _¡No mames!"_ Ric said in disbelief. "How much is that?"

"Thirty-eight hundred dollars. It was what we owed Cable. I never got the opportunity to give it to him," the Mojoworlder said.

"Are you freakin' kidding me? You were actually going to pay that cabron back?!"

"Up until the point he deserted us; Yes."

"Hold on," Roberto cut in. "Pay Cable back for what?"

"Russell and I, uh, caused some damage to the hotel." Rictor coughed into his hand.

"I knew you would never have repaid your share of the debt so I did so on both our behalves. Now, this money will benefit all of us."

"It sure will. Thanks 'Star," Theresa said in relief, counting it all up and splitting it six ways. It amounted to almost seven hundred dollars for each of them. "More than enough for a used car and supplies. Let's go find us another vehicle first."

In short time, they found an old rusted-orange Thunderbird convertible sitting out on someone's lawn for private sale and Theresa haggled the seller down from six hundred dollars to three hundred by using her powers to modulate the pitch of her voice into a melodious, almost-hypnotic tone that left the man in a happy, highly suggestive state.

"Hell, you probably could have gotten the car for a nickel if you'd pushed it further," Tabitha pointed out as they drove away. Ric and 'Star followed behind them in the blue Ford as they all went into town for supplies.

"I'm just learning how t'do that trick and I dinna want to push it too far. Besides, I wanted it t'be fair," Terry said, driving. "We're not runaways, or vigilantes, or thieves. We're on ..." she paused to consider it. "Vacation."

"Trapped in a car with three other people and no air conditioning. This isn't my idea of a vacation," Roberto spoke up. "To me, a vacation is a five-star resort with room service and half naked babes walking around the pool area begging to refill my drink."

"Is that a fact?" Tabitha said, craning her head around from her spot in the passenger seat and fixing him with a smirk. "You're the only guy in this car surrounded by three beautiful gals and _that's_ the best fantasy you can come up with?"

Roberto flushed and offered her a guilty grin.

"What about you, Dani?" Theresa asked her friend sitting in the back seat next to Bobby.

"What about me?" the Native asked.

"Yuir not in the same boat as us. Yuir not associated with X-Force. Besides, ye have a job with S.H.I.E.L.D. Ye'd probably be a lot safer there. Don't ye want t'go back?"

"It's kind of like what you said. This is as close to a vacation as I've had in a very long time."

"You're nuts," Tabby remarked, resting her right elbow on the rolled down window.

"No doubt. That's why I fit in so well with all of you," Dani said and received strained smiles in return.

In the truck, the mood wasn't much more celebratory although it was a relief to Rictor that he and 'Star finally had some space to themselves and could talk freely. They had barely pulled away from the house where the man had sold his car to Terry before the alien barked out, "Roberto. What happened?"

Rictor sighed. "I was still out of it from that ZT sedation. I said some things to him when we were in bed together-"

The alien's head snapped around. "What was Sunspot doing in your _bed?!_ "

"Jealous much?" Ric asked in amusement.

'Star's eyes narrowed. "Answer the question."

"Madre de Dios, chill out. The cabin only had two beds and Bobby opted to use mine rather than the floor. I was asleep at the time. When I woke up this morning I thought he was you, but I was still pretty out of it. I, uh, called him a _hombre guapo_ and did this-" He dropped his hand down on 'Star's crotch and squeezed lightly before pulling his hand back.

"Oh," the alien said. He would have been quite content for Ric to leave his hand there but was momentarily too flustered to express the sentiment.

"I tried to pass it off that I was still out of it from the drugs, but I'm not too sure Bobby believed me. I hightailed it out of the room before it got really awkward. We haven't talked since and that's just how I want to leave it. I don't think he'll say anything to the others without embarrassing himself first. From what I felt, I wasn't the only one sporting morning wood this morning if you catch my drift. Our secret's safe."

'Star lapsed into thought for a moment and then said out of the blue; "Do you really consider me an _hombre guapo_?"

"You bet your sweet ass I do."

" _Gracias por el cumplido."_

" _No hay problema, carnal,"_ Ric said, flashing him a sincere smile.

Both groups found the local Wal-Mart and did the brunt of their shopping in the huge department store. Rictor and 'Star picked up some clothes, a variety of camping supplies for their journey, and some automotive fluids and spare parts they figured the battered Ford would probably need in the (very) near future. And duct tape. Terry's group predictably bought some outfits and munchies, but not much more than the car's small trunk could hold. They regrouped in the parking lot and stood in a half circle around the front of Terry's 'new' car. The mood was strained among them as each knew what was to come next and nobody really wanted to be the one to make the first move that would put things into motion.

The roadmap was laid out across the hood of the Thunderbird as both parties considered where they were going. "What're your plans?" Theresa asked Rictor.

"The truck doesn't have papers or insurance and there's no telling how far Zero Tolerance has thrown their net. I figure 'Star and me can do a straight shot down to Mobile and charter a boat that will take us to Mexico. Thanks to that BP oil spill there's gotta be loads of fishermen along the coast eager to make some easy money ferrying a couple of teenagers across the Gulf."

"I have never been in a boat before," 'Star said, looking uncomfortable.

"You'll like it. It's peaceful being out on the water-"

"Unless it's hurricane season. Which it is," Tabby said.

'Star looked increasingly agitated while Rictor passed her a furious _'Why would you say that?'_ look.

"Aw, I'm just joking," she said, coming up beside 'Star and playfully punching his arm. "Being in a boat isn't any worse than being stuck in the PACRAT during some turbulence."

"I don't particularly enjoy flying, either," the alien grumbled. "I can die from drowning and from falling great heights. Automotive accidents are generally trauma I can recover from."

"Look, it's just a rough idea," Ric said in desperation. "We'll play things by ear once we're back on the road."

"I fail to see how auditory manipulation can have any input-" He was interrupted by the sound of Julio banging his forehead down on the car's hood in frustration.

Theresa mused how much she was going to miss hearing those two bicker back and forth. "We're going to head to Detroit to pick up James. He should be done with- Well, whatever he was doing with Sledge. After that, I honestly dinna have a clue where t'go."

"South," Roberto said. "Where there's beaches and warm water and babes-"

"Again with the babes. You're just plain sad, you know that?" Tabby glowered at him.

While Bobby was trying to sputter out a meager defense of his peculiar travel plans, Rictor stepped up to him holding out his hand in that unmistakable gesture of farewell. "So this is it, huh?"

"Yep. Time to make tracks," Ric said briefly. Of all of them, it was easiest for him to say good-bye to Roberto, given all that Reignfire and gay crap in their early months together. The recent incident in the cabin was another motivator to want to leave. Julio gradually made the rounds of reluctant hugs and kisses among the others. This was the end of so many things; of close partnerships, cherished friendships, and surrogate family all rolled into one. He would probably never see any of them again and they all knew that just as clearly as he did. Mutants fortunate enough to associate in groups still lived violent, short lives and he was striking out on his own with just Shatterstar for company, heading into a meat-grinder that his Mexican relatives had created. If he had just asked, the others would have followed them to help without hesitation, but Ric didn't and Theresa didn't push the issue as much as she was tempted to. This was personal for Julio, probably some matter of macho honor or pride that she simply didn't understand so, when she hugged Ric and kissed his cheek, there were tears in both of their eyes when they finally stepped away.

Shatterstar's goodbyes were far less emotional. He shook Roberto's hand, holding onto it and glaring down into the smaller mutant's face. Bobby saw a veiled threat clearly displayed in that ice-blue regard and resolved he would keep his mouth shut on what had happened in the cabin's bedroom with Ric (though he still didn't entirely understand most of it). All he knew was that the Mojoworlder was one person he didn't want to _ever_ get on the bad side of. 'Star and Dani really didn't know each other very well and merely exchanged a mute nod.

It wasn't until he and Theresa looked at one another that his face and posture changed. "You're crying again," he remarked. He gently smoothed the tear trails away from either cheek with his fingers and pulled her close.

"Take care of yourself. And Julio, too. Stay safe, Gaveedra," she whispered into his ear. It was the first time she had ever called him by his first name and he held her tighter.

"You, too, Theresa. You are a warrior without equal. I know the rest of the team is safe so long as you're with them," he said, giving her a brief kiss on the lips and reluctantly pulled away from her.

Tabitha was immediately beside him with her arms spread wide. "My turn. You've kissed Terry, Feral, _and_ James-"

"Not me," Roberto said quickly, holding up a hand. "And I'd just as soon keep it that way. No offense."

"I'm good, too," Dani said in amusement, casting Rictor a look he couldn't quite decipher. Just as she was about to say something more, she was interrupted.

"Tabby wants some sugar!" The blond demanded.

'Star looked at her with a crooked eyebrow and then, moving with that unnatural speed of his, swept her into his muscular arms and crushed his mouth against hers as he dipped her. It looked exactly like something out of one of the romance vids he had seen on the television. He gave her a slow, thorough kiss that stunned everyone (particularly Rictor who looked on in wide-eyed amazement). One of 'Star's hands drifted down and cupped her left buttock. Tabitha moaned in sheer bliss, clearly in no hurry to let this end as her hands kneaded his back in growing excitement.

After about a minute of witnessing the torrid display, Terry released a quiet, uncomfortable cough. Dani was looking at the sky and whistling to herself. On some unseen cue, Bobby grabbed Tabby and Ric grabbed 'Star in wordless agreement and they forcibly pulled the pair apart.

"So, uh, have, like, y'know, a-a safe trip, okay?" Tabby told the tall alien, flushed and smiling in a happy, dazed way that almost looked like she was drunk.

"The same to you, Tabitha," 'Star murmured with a rare, warm smile that was usually reserved for intimate encounters. His eyes were a dark, lustful blue.

"Time to go!" Rictor shouted, heading for the truck and tugging onto the sleeve of the alien's shirt at the same time to get him moving. He had to practically push 'Star into the passenger seat. He climbed behind the wheel and started the Ford, absently waving out of the window as he pulled out of the parking spot. "Take care of yourselves, you guys!"

"Bye!" Tabitha shouted, waving like an idiot at Shatterstar who was leaning far out of the window. He enthusiastically waved back before Ric's hand appeared, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and hauled him back into the cab.

The quartet of mutants stood in the parking lot in silence long after the blue Ford disappeared from view. Theresa sniffled sadly and, after taking a deep breath, began folding up the map, trying to appear every inch the team's deputy leader even though they were now a defunct one. Tabitha was touching her lips and still appeared to be in some sort of trance from her kiss with 'Star. Roberto was now more confused than ever. Dani was staring off in the direction that Rictor and Shatterstar had gone and smiling to herself.

Theresa wiped her eyes. "I guess that's it then," she said, handing the road map to Tabby, who was the appointed navigator. They piled into the car and pulled out of the parking lot. Once they cleared the city limits of Asheville, they followed the highway markers that got them on I-19 and headed north.

For the first few hours there was just aimless back and forth chatter among the four youths. Each of them took turns telling Dani about some of X-Force's more daring adventures, and she responded in kind with details of some of her own covert missions. Once conversation lapsed, that began the battle with the radio stations as each person had their own preference. It wasn't long before the griping started and Terry finally swept in like a mother hen and called for a time-out.

It was during the lull when Dani decided it was time to drop the bomb. "So... how long have Rictor and Shatterstar been lovers?"

Theresa immediately slammed her foot down on the brake, sending the car into a skid before she managed to snap out of her shock and negotiate it safely over to the curb. Roberto had been entertaining some mighty interesting scenarios over in his mind, but nothing so serious as _that_. Tabitha was contemplating some rather raunchy daydreams about 'Star and was left wondering how things might have gone if she had tried harder to flirt with him. Now, she and Terry snapped their heads around so fast to look at Dani that it was a miracle they didn't break their necks.

Everyone screamed: _**"WHAT?!"**_

* * *

Cruising southwest on Highway 23, there was complete silence in the blue pick-up truck. Julio had barely spoken since they'd pulled out of the Wal-Mart parking lot. Shatterstar lounged in the passenger seat and watched the scenery pass by without comment. He reasoned his friend was probably mad at him for kissing Tabitha but really didn't care. He knew that he would probably never see her again and they had gone through so much together that it warranted more than an impersonal handshake or peck on the cheek. It had deserved a more intimate good-bye. He was beginning to mentally compose his defence on the matter when Rictor suddenly burst out laughing.

"Julio?" he asked in surprise.

"Oh man, the look on everybody's faces-" Ric managed to get out before braying laughter, slapping his hand on the steering wheel. "I gotta hand it to you, chabòn, you were just as dramatic with your exit as you were when you first joined up. _¡Qué chingón!"_ He chuckled.

"I thought you were angry with me," 'Star said.

"Huh? Why? 'Cause of that kiss to Tabs? That was one of the funniest things I've ever seen. No, I was just lost in thought about the 'Force and all of the shit we got up to over the last year. More like ten months for me, really. I joined up late in the game and, well, was gone for that month. I wish things had ended on a less bittersweet note. You've been pretty quiet yourself, big fella. You miss the team?"

"I'm with the only member that matters."

He said it so casually that Rictor looked over at him in shock, but the alien was absorbed in the view and didn't see the sudden struggle of emotions that passed by the Hispanic's face. As usual, Julio's first thought was _"Why me?"_ because he still didn't think himself worthy of such obvious devotion from someone so perfect in mind and body. He still could scarcely accept that this was all real: He and 'Star finally alone together. No prying teammates, no bossy commander, no objective, no mission, no pressure. It made him understand why Shatterstar took the whole freedom thing so much to heart. There was a liberating quality to it, almost intoxicating, and Rictor realized that this was the first time since he had been a thirteen year-old runaway that he was actually on his own again; allowed to make his own decisions and chart his own destiny. And close by his side, he had one of the most wonderful people on the planet to share that with.

They were crossing the state line into Georgia and Rictor saw a billboard that caught his eye. "Hey Gav. That Cadre language. How long do you think it'll take for me to learn it?"

The alien appeared to give it some thought. "You have already grasped some basics and it's not a particularly complex dialect. Two weeks of immersion with plenty of practise should enable you to be reasonably fluent. Why?"

"Stands to reason that speaking Spanish in Mexico isn't going to stop anybody from understanding our conversations when we start causing trouble down there. We'll need our own code that can't be translated."

"That strategy is sound. We can begin now if you-"

"No, we'll start tomorrow," Ric said, getting off the highway at the next exit and following the road signs to Chattahoochee National Park. "We're going to set up camp and chill out for the day. Maybe a couple of days. Hell, maybe for a whole damn week."

'Star was looking at him in confusion. "We have been travelling for less than an hour and you already wish to stop?"

"I'm in no hurry to head home. Right now, I really just want to enjoy some downtime being alone with you." He dropped his hand on the alien's crotch again and, this time, let that brazen contact linger. "You understand?"

The alien mused that he would have to be brain dead not to grasp the meaning. "Yes, Julio, but we can have comfort and privacy at the safe house now that the others have left. Let's go back to-"

"Cable's safe house. Cable's furniture. Cable's supplies," Rictor said in a sudden hard voice. "Just using his truck riles me for the way he abandoned us there. I want us to set up our own camp, do things our own way, with no one to rely on but each other. It won't be fancy but, dammit, at least it'll be ours!"

'Star had to betray a smile at the resolve he heard in the other teen's voice. Sometimes he envied how free Julio was with his emotions while he kept most of his own bottled up most of the time. It was one of the reasons why he was so deeply attracted to the Hispanic. "It sounds like a fine idea," he responded and removed the other's hand still resting on his groin. At Ric's bewildered expression, he explained, "Don't start something unless you're going to finish it."

"Tempting," the smaller teen murmured. "But this damn cab is too cramped to do much of anything."

"We have plenty of time," 'Star said in that dismissive tone he often used to convey boredom. He wasn't fooling anyone, particularly not Rictor who had felt the truth beneath his hand before the alien removed it. They exchanged a knowing, torrid glance before Ric forced his concentration back on the road. With difficulty.

They entered the park and found a secluded site with plenty of tree cover on either side and with decent space from other campers. It had a picnic table and a firepit and one side of the camp had a perfectly level space where no doubt hundreds of tents had been erected over the years. Ric hauled out some of their new gear and examined the long bag that contained their tent. Rather than rely on some claustrophobic fabric coffin, he had chosen an expensive model more suited for a large family, containing several compartments. Just because he was roughing it didn't mean he was willing to abandon all of his comforts, space being one of them. "I'm gonna leave that monster for you to figure out," Rictor said, eyeing it with disdain. "I'm no good with tents. If I even try getting it out of the bag, I'll get us kicked out of here with my cursing."

"Where are you going?" 'Star asked, standing amidst the Wal-Mart camping gear as Rictor got back into the truck.

"I have to register with the ranger station, pick up some firewood, buy some ice, and get some other essentials-"

"We have adequate supplies to last-"

" _Essentials_ ," Ric repeated. "The intimate kind. We couldn't very well buy any with the rest of the gang roaming around Wal-Mart, could we? I'll probably be gone awhile trying to hunt down a box that isn't ten years out of date on the shelf of some greasy truck stop-"

"I'm telling you that isn't necessary." 'Star amazed him by hauling out several boxes of condoms from the backpack he had also bought. "The group knows I'm sexually active. Dani actually passed me a wink when she saw me buy these."

Rictor gaped at him in amazement and then threw his head back and laughed. "She did, huh? If only she knew the truth." Ric snickered. "Well, you sure cut down on my scavenger hunt. Thanks Gav, I'll be back as soon as I can. If that tent gets to be too much of a hassle to put together, just wait til I get back. Two heads are better than one."

"Two heads or four?" 'Star inquired politely with a wry smile pulling up the corner of his mouth.

"You catch on quick. I'll try not to be gone for long," he said and drove away in a trail of blue exhaust.

He signed in at the main station using a fake ID and received the usual lecture from a weary ranger who took note of his obvious young age and lectured him about horseplay, drugs and alcohol consumption, being respectful of neighbouring campers, and not feeding the animals. Ric grabbed some trail guides that detailed some of the more challenging hiking routes he and 'Star could use to stay in shape. After all that, he loaded up on firewood and ice and then left the campground, finding a liquor store down the road whose proprietor couldn't be bothered with carding him. The Hispanic took full advantage of that lapse and filled his Coleman cooler with beer until he could barely close the lid. After that he found a store and bought graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate bars, intending to make 'Star his first campfire rite of passage: S'mores. Adding hotdogs, buns, and condiments to the list had him pretty well set up, food and beverage wise. Satisfied, he headed back to what he now mentally dubbed as Homebase.

When he returned to his assigned campsite, he actually drove right by it and had to slowly back up, staring out of the driver's window in disbelief. 'Star had easily assembled the extra-large blue and gray tent, and had also set up the mosquito tent around the picnic table and unpacked the cooking gear. Their previously barren site now looked like something out of a catalogue advertisement. The warrior was in the process of manually depressing a foot pump to fill a king size air mattress they had also bought and (Ric really shouldn't have been surprised by this) he wasn't alone while he was doing it. He was engaged in conversation with two pretty young women travelling on touring bicycles.

"Unbelievable," Rictor marvelled, carefully backing the truck into its assigned space.

"Julio," 'Star called out as watched his friend get out of the cab. "This is Miranda and Lucy."

"Enjoying the view?" Ric asked the two girls, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. It was a hot, muggy day and, at some point during his efforts of setting up camp, 'Star had stripped down to a pair of spandex shorts. The alien had a body that was intentionally designed to be on display and the tight shorts he wore left next to nothing to the imagination. It was actually a surprise that he hadn't attracted more than the two groupies. Then again, the day was still young and word hadn't yet spread of The Red-Headed God of Campsite 49.

The girls glanced in Ric's direction, but it was clear in their faces they didn't see anything there they were interested in. They hopped back on their bikes and began to pedal away. "We'll see you later, Ben," one of them called back, giggling.

'Star offered a simple mute wave, smiling.

"Man, I can't leave you alone for a minute, can I?" Ric said, carrying one of his coolers over to the picnic table. "And did I hear right? You called yourself Ben?"

"I think Russell would have liked this place." 'Star said, looking up at the huge trees that encircled their camp. All vegetation on Mojoworld had been sickly or dying from the toxic castoffs of the expansive city domes. Even the water table had been contaminated. "It contains peace and quiet he deserved, rather than what happened to him."

Shatterstar spoke so rarely about Russell that Ric often forgot that the Boston teenager was still in his mind. To his credit, 'Star seemed to be coping well with the extra baggage but there was always a sad note to his voice whenever he brought up the troubled teen, which was probably why he remained so quiet on the matter.

"Yeah, I hear you," Ric said neutrally, unloading the truck. 'Star moved in to help transfer the firewood bundles over to the fire pit and the Hispanic, probably just like the two biking bimbos before him, was entranced by the sight of how easily the warrior moved. Those smooth, clearly defined muscles flexing in perfect symmetry; arms, back, stomach, legs. A body that would be the envy of any Olympic athlete and completely mesmerizing to the eye. And, as if that sight wasn't enough of a treat, there was the addition of those tight black shorts that looked as if they were painted on his body, clearly outlining that impressive length of manhood. In that instant, Ric forgot all about firewood, or S'mores, or beer. He grabbed 'Star's arm and said urgently, _"Alto!_ _Me estás volviendo loco_ ** _._** _Quiero tener sexo contigo._ _Ándale, tu mango con chile ..."_ He pulled the alien towards the tent.

"I haven't finished inflating the mattress," 'Star said, not that he was offering much in the way of resistance as they entered the enclosure. "Miranda told me that making love on one is like 'screwing in a bouncy castle'. I don't know what that means!"

"We'll bounce later," Ric said impatiently, making sure to zip the tent closed after they were inside. 'Star had unrolled their sleeping bags in the main compartment and Ric eagerly tugged the spandex down the alien's lean hips. Realizing that his friend was going commando turned him on even more and he grabbed that large cock, taking it into his mouth and started sucking. 'Star got hard and came in Ric's mouth with shocking speed. Being around the girls had probably spurred his libido, or their time in the truck with Ric's hand on his crotch, or maybe even back to his and Tabitha's good-by kiss. The Mexican was surprised but he wasn't complaining and lapped up every drop with a gratified moan.

Kneeling down beside him, 'Star grabbed Ric's face and kissed him deeply, his tongue driving into that responding heat and tasting his own come in his lover's mouth, practically inhaling that taste and scent in the extremity of his passion. Their tongues fenced together in a restless dance of primal lust before the warrior pushed the smaller teen down on the sleeping bags. He undressed Ric quickly, pulling the T-shirt off with impatient tugs and bit lightly at the dark nipples, lashing the nubs with his tongue and causing the teen to writhe beneath him in pleasure. He nipped and licked the flesh across Julio's chest and down his stomach.

"Oh, you magnificent bastard," Ric groaned when his pants were unzipped and 'Star had engulfed the teen's hard cock into his mouth, full-throating him with little effort. "Oh Christ, Gav-!" he grabbed the sides of 'Star's head and hunched up into that sucking, moist heat with complete abandon. "Like that! Just like that! _Oh fuck!_ " he rasped, coming hard, his back arching as he gritted his teeth, feeling those lips fastened about the base of his cock until he shot the last of his load down that gulping throat.

But he wasn't finished. Neither of them were even remotely sated, reveling in the seclusion of this polyester cave and able to feel each other in daylight and fresh air and freedom. They didn't have to rush their union or be worried about discovery. Ric laid on top of 'Star, straddling those muscular thighs as they rutted smoothly back and forth, their dicks grinding together. Over the course of their deepening relationship, both began to favour this form of intimacy even more than penetration, holding their bodies close, kissing deeply and fondly while their cocks rubbed together in delicious, indescribable ecstasy. During this time they were not Rictor and Shatterstar; mutants from different worlds. They were simply Julio and Gaveedra; teenagers from violent pasts who, by some miraculous action of fate, had found comfort in each other.

They rocked together in harmony, mouths tracing jaw-lines and collarbones, and then meeting again in deep, leisurely kisses. Their hands traced over their toned arms and muscular forms, becoming reacquainted with every bare inch of eager flesh and committing all of their myriad pleasure zones to memory. In time, Rictor ejaculated again and 'Star reached down and used that slick spend to speed up his own release. When he followed his partner, shivering in the throes of his climax, he looked up at Rictor with staggering emotion in his blue eyes. He wrapped his arms around the teen and pulled him close, rolling them over and burying his face into the crook of Ric's shoulder. He whispered several words of Cadre in a hoarse voice.

For some reason hearing the harsh language incited a rash of goosebumbs across the Mexican's body. It had to do with the rare emotion he heard in 'Star's voice, as if he had said something intensely personal. "I don't know what that means, Gav," he said in confusion.

"You will," the alien said, nuzzling his jaw line and pulling the damp brown hair back from Rictor's brow to kiss his temple. "Once you learn Cadre, you'll understand."

"You're not going to tell me now?"

"Nai," he said with a shake of the head.

Rictor examined his partner's features closely, fingers lightly tracing that star tattoo on the left side of his face. In the dimness of the X-Mansion bunker he had never noticed before how that one eye sometimes faded, almost disappearing to blank white before drifting back to view. It was like watching a blue light fade back and forth through a fog; a reminder of Star's extraterrestrial origins with a dash of magic thrown in as if he wasn't strange enough. It was a fascinating thing to witness. _"_ _Eres la persona más maravillosa del mundo. Te adoro,"_ he murmured, running a hand through that long red hair.

Again, it wasn't what he really wanted to say to this young man who had eclipsed everyone else in his life and made him indescribably happy; This handsome alien who had devoted his entire life to Ric and wormed his way into his head, heart, and soul while asking for nothing more than a kind word and gentle touch in return. It wouldn't be until three months later, as Shatterstar lay dying on a deserted beach in Manzanillo, Mexico that Ric would finally tell him: _'_ _Te amo._ _Te quiero con todo mi corazón.'_

By then it would be too late, but for right now telling him that he adored him seemed to placate the alien and make him smile, a thing too rare for them both. Holding each other close, they decided to take a rare nap in the pleasant afternoon of the Georgia National Park. It was another indulgence they hadn't been able to share in recent memory. It had been a long, difficult year chock full of trauma, disappointment, and violence, but it was now over. They were still alive and they intended to spend it together.

 _Te amo, Gav,_ Rictor thought as he felt those strong arms enfold him and he tightened his hands around that possessive embrace. He fell asleep, smiling contentedly.

 _Dhiv kiba uemeur sa hai'vo_ , Shatterstar thought, unaware that he was thinking precisely the same thing in a different language and had been the first of the pair to say it out loud. He succumbed to his exhaustion and curled protectively around his lover and permitted himself to the first restful slumber he had enjoyed since ... Well, he honestly couldn't remember, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes the past was best left forgotten.

It was the future that was important and he didn't have to fear it or face it alone. That was what mattered the most.

 

 

_~El Fin_

* * *

Translations:

Ric: "¡No mames!" - Holy shit!

Star: "Gracias por el cumplido." – Thank you for the compliment.

Ric: "No hay problema, carnal." – No problem, buddy.

\- "¡Qué chingón!" - Freaking awesome!

\- "Alto! Me estás volviendo loco **.** Quiero tener sexo contigo. Ándale, tu mango con chile ..." - Stop! You're driving me wild. I want to have sex with you. C'mon, you well-hung stud ...

\- "Eres la persona más maravillosa del mundo. Te adoro" - You are the most wonderful person in the world. I adore you.

\- "Te amo. Te quiero con todo mi corazón." - I love you. I love you with all of my heart.

\- "El Fin" - The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you enjoyed reading this story as much as I did writing it. Cheers!


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